


Druella Gaunt and the Secret of the Black Lake

by lissandlaura, radvictoriam



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Evil Poltergeists, Gen, Parent Voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 85,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2020581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lissandlaura/pseuds/lissandlaura, https://archiveofourown.org/users/radvictoriam/pseuds/radvictoriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Druella Gaunt is not a girl to be trifled with- when she's made up her mind, nothing and nobody will change her opinion. Adopted into the Malfoy family before she can remember, it is therefore only logical for the curious Dru to go hunting for the secrets of her heritage hidden in the darkest corners of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The answer to just who her parents are will change not only her life but the lives of those around her, including one of her closest friends: Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. The news will not only change things for Dru...  it may even potentially alter the course of the future and the return of Lord Voldemort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. July 31st, 1980

**Author's Note:**

> We don't own Harry Potter. Any characters, places, dialogue or events you recognise from canon are not ours; we really can't stress this enough. Everything you recognise is the brainchild of J.K. Rowling and credit goes to her for their existence.

‘ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…’  
~ Sybill Trelawney, 1980_

31st July, 1980. Voldemort found himself in a meeting with his closest servants with more than just a slight feeling of trepidation. Bellatrix, his most loyal subject, had been retired from active duty for the past three months and had been confined to the walls of Malfoy Manor, and was therefore unable to be present at the meeting. He was desperately tracing the location of two of the couples that could be responsible for the birth of the child mentioned in the prophecy. Severus had done well to warn him of the prophecy, he mused as his Death Eaters pored over maps and scout reports. So far, he had managed to whittle down the potential parents of the child named in the prophecy to three couples- Frank and Alice Longbottom, Lily and James Potter, and... Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman carrying _his_ child. Bellatrix had refused to let anyone determine the gender of the baby, having got the idea quite firmly in her mind that it should be a 'surprise'. Some twisted surprise, he cursed internally, but he could hardly tell her of the prophecy, and he had not dared to endanger the life of his unborn child by forcing her to follow orders. She had hardly been his first choice for the task, being neither the most attractive or the sanest of his followers, but she was the only one willing to perform this most important of tasks, although when she had been retired from active duty she had hardly been impressed.

One of his men was just about to speak, and then the door burst open with a bang, rattling in its frame. Rodolphus Lestrange stood in the doorway, red-faced and panting. He took a huge gulp of air.

“Lord... the baby. Your child is coming, sir.”

Voldemort's heart stopped. “Very well, Lestrange,” he said. “I will be there shortly.”

He instructed his Death Eaters to continue with the research, determined that the child his servant was bearing would not be- could not be- the child of the prophecy. If it was a boy, he would have it killed. Gathering his robes, he swept from the room, letting the heavy door bang as it shut behind him. His followers, most of whom were present in the Manor, scurried from view as they saw the look on his face. The corridors around the bedroom-turned-nursing-room were entirely deserted. Narcissa paced outside the room, waiting for him. She turned sharply on her heel and stopped as she saw him arrive.

‘My Lord,’ Narcissa Malfoy greeted him upon his arrival. She was one of the few who were not preparing Bellatrix for birth. ‘Your child will be here soon.’

‘Yes,’ he muttered, distracted. He did not want small talk from the woman certain she was only a part of his cause for fear of disgracing both the Malfoy and Black family names. After a moment of thinking, he continued quietly, more to himself than to the witch. 'She will be the most powerful witch of her generation.'

That may have been one of the closest things to fatherly the Dark Lord would ever say of his only child.

“Lord, you cannot know- even Bella...” Narcissa trailed off, trying to choose her words carefully. “We do not know the gender of the child.”

“It will be a girl. I will not have a son,” he told her firmly.

Narcissa worried at her lip. Bella would not like that idea, but she knew better than to question the Dark Lord again. She stood outside the heavy wooden door for a moment longer in thought and then pushed it open. Bellatrix's furious screeching poured forth. She was ranting almost incoherently about 'respecting the Dark Lord's seed' and Narcissa rolled her eyes. “My Lord, she will not be quiet. Or sit still. This isn't pain- she simply won't allow the healers near her. She insists it is disrespectful of them to insist she will need help with the birth...” Narcissa trailed off as the Dark Lord looked up from where he stood in the hall, his eyes flashing.

“I will handle Bellatrix. You will ensure the healers do their job. Let me pass.”

“Yes, Lord,” she affirmed as Voldemort swept past her into the dark room. On the large bed Bella twisted, screeching incoherently about respect. Healers were trying- unsuccessfully- to hold her still and monitor his child, but she would not stay calm. The Dark Lord strode to the end of the bed and then stared at the woman carrying his child.

“Bellatrix!” he commanded. “You will cease your blathering at once and remain calm while my child is born! I will not let you risk it's life.”

Bella fell silent as Voldemort spoke. She looked lucid as she returned his icy glare with deference, but Voldemort knew how easily his most loyal subject could fly off the handle about a potential disrespect to her Lord and his property. And right now, the most important possession he had was sitting inside her belly. He supposed she would have every reason to be protective of it- after all, he had told her of the pain he would make her face should she fail him in this task by needlessly endangering the precious burden she carried.

He kept his gaze pinned on her as the healers bustled around the room. He barely spared a glance at the furnishings of the room, having been in there only a week previously to decide where his child would be born. It was furnished in a rich warm green, fitting for the next heir of Slytherin, with green curtains and a dark bedspread the colour of pine needles. The carpet in this room was several shades of green, twisting together like snakes writhing in a mass. The bed was large enough that there would be enough space for the healers to get to her. While none of the rooms in Malfoy Manor could be considered small, this one was particularly spacious, with a space well away from the bed with seats in case the birth became problematic or the Dark Lord needed to sit for any length of time. He insisted he would be present during the birth. Yes, the room was fitting, he thought as he stared down at the half-crazed woman in the bed with the healers fussing over her. Narcissa stood a little to his left, wringing her hands in fear. The birth of her sons had both been problematic and this had undoubtedly brought painful memories to the fore of her mind- as well as the worry that she might lose the only sister she had left.

A healer brushed his side as she scurried to the window to pull open the curtain enough to read the label on one of the more smudged bottles of potion that they had brought. She visibly recoiled in fear and Voldemort wanted to spit in her face and curse her then and there, but he forced himself to think of the potential gain of his child and instead smiled wanly at her. She forced herself to smile shakily back and then shot to the window, breathing heavily. He made a mental note to visit her personally in the dungeons below Malfoy Manor, where the healers were headed after their job was complete. He had led those he had kidnapped from St Mungo's unwillingly to believe they would be returning to their jobs after nothing more than a simple _Obliviate_. In truth, those who were not on his side were never returning home again. In fact, none of those who were there from St Mungo's could be trusted. The knowledge that this child would be his was to be kept safe until the correct time, when it would be old enough to understand the glory of its heritage.

The birth moved along smoothly. Bellatrix, not one to flinch in the face of pain for her master, endured what he could only imagine as crippling physical agony with almost no sound of complaint. The healers worried around her and Narcissa stood to the side, her features twisted into a mask of half-panic. Voldemort cared little; he wanted his child and he wanted it to be a girl. With every passing moment the tendrils of fear that had crept through his mind after Severus had told him of the prophecy tightened their grip on him. Fear was an unusual emotion, something he had rarely felt if at all, and he found himself tapping his foot impatiently to try and distract himself from the worry. His mind slipped from the moment to consideration of his horcruxes and their safety in the dark room. The noise that brought him back to reality was a sharp wail. The child had taken its first breath and screamed- all the signs of a healthy baby, and yet the healers and especially Narcissa still had worry etched onto their faces as they checked the baby for the gender.

He tensed, waiting anxiously. This was the only flaw in his plan. Narcissa stood over the healer, verifying what they saw. The waiting seemed to him to take years as he looked at the backs of the white robes of the healer and Narcissa's dress. Then she turned, slowly, and he looked blankly at her face, revealing nothing-

“The child is female, my Lord. You have a daughter.”

Voldemort smiled indulgently. Perfection. His daughter could not be the child mentioned in the prophecy Severus had brought him, and therefore was the perfect weapon. She would be used well. He stood and took the bundle of cloth that Narcissa handed him with the squirming child inside, and looked down at it coolly. He felt nothing as he held it, not even a small flicker of fondness. After all, the child was essentially useless until it grew and could use magic. He handed the bundle to Bellatrix who began to croon over it.

“Precious, you are going to be just as good a witch as your mother, and you shall love your Lord and father more than I ever could for he is part of you-”

“Bellatrix.”

She fell instantly silent and looked up at him. The healers were being led out of the room now to their deaths, and the only three people left in the room were Bellatrix, Narcissa and Voldemort. “Yes, my Lord? Did I perform well?”

“You bore my child, as I asked. Yes, you will gain a reward. But remember, Bellatrix; the child is mine. She will be a Gaunt, not a Lestrange or a Black. Druella Gaunt is to be her name.”

“Druella _Bellatrix_ ,” whined Bellatrix instantly. “Let that be my reward, my Lord, I have served you well, Mother and I always said you were the first wizard to see sense in years...”

“Very well. Druella Bellatrix Gaunt. Narcissa, make a note of her name and the date and time of her birth.”

“Yes, Lord,” Narcissa replied, scurrying from the room to obey.

The Dark Lord looked at the plan forming in the body of the tiny baby that Bellatrix was cooing over with a sense of dry satisfaction. This decision had played out in his favour, despite his fears that his child would be the child of the prophecy. His daughter would be incredibly useful, especially as he was certain that nobody knew of his relation to the Gaunt line. They would not suspect a thing.

Druella Bellatrix Gaunt would be a very important witch, of that he would make sure. Striding from the room and leaving Bellatrix holding Druella, he turned his mind firmly to the prospect of finding the one who the prophecy referred to, and removing the threat to him and his heir. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're planning to rewrite all seven novels. This is hopefully the first of many, many chapters; but both Laura and I are full-time university students based about 100 miles (two hours travel) from one another. We'll update as often as we can, but please be understanding if we slow down during term time. Of course, as the books progress the reading age will probably raise and archive warnings will be needed because things get... understandably dark, at the end of the series. If you have any questions, we have a tumblr blog for the fic: druellabellatrixgaunt.tumblr.com! Enjoy!  
> -Liss x


	2. Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thought I'd let you know that we're planning to upload about once a week until we run out of edited chapters (if anyone follows my twitter you'll know that's all I've done for about 3 days solid) or until we have other things to do (like Leeds Fest and 19th birthday celebrations for me). I go on holiday for a fortnight on the 1st August, and I won't have WiFi, but Laura's going to be uploading the chapters on Mondays (hopefully) while I'm gone. Enjoy! -Liss x

**Eleven Years Later**

 

While Dru and Draco always expected to be accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, when the owl carrying their acceptance letters actually arrives during their breakfast, the morning shifts from boredom into excitement. Lucius rolls his eyes at the pair as they dance around the table in the smallest of the two dining rooms in the Manor and returns to his eggs. Narcissa primly dabs at her mouth with a napkin, removing imaginary crumbs from her thin lips, and then smiles broadly at them both.

“Congratulations, my darlings. We shall have to go shopping to Diagon Alley. Dobby!” she calls, and Dobby appears with a snap of his fingers and a puff of smoke seconds later.

“Yes, Mistress Malfoy? How may Dobby serve?”

“Fetch me two short lengths of parchment, a black inkwell and two quills, if you would.”

“Yes, Mistress Malfoy!”

“Now then, Draco, Dru, why don't you write back to Professor McGonagall yourselves to confirm your places?”

Lucius rolls his eyes again at his children, both of whom are still dancing excitedly at the prospect of replying to such an important letter themselves, and then looks up as another owl arrives. This one is carrying The Daily Prophet and a letter addressed to him. He plucks the letter from the owl unceremoniously; as he reads it his frown deepens. “Narcissa, dearest. Do you have any pressing social engagements today?”

“Not today. Why do you ask, my love?”

“I do believe we can find time today to make a trip to Diagon Alley for the children's Hogwarts equipment.”

“Can we really, Father? Can we get an owl, too?” asks Draco.

“Yes, I suppose you can get an owl. Dru will have one of her own as well, of course.”

Diagon Alley is heaving when the Malfoys arrive, much to Lucius’ disdain. As he turns his nose up at the various 'lesser' wizards surrounding them, Narcissa watches their children warily, steering them expertly through the crowds. Dru’s fingers begin to cramp in her Aunt’s tight clasp but she finds that she doesn’t mind as much as she usually would – never has she ever seen the street so _full_. It seems that all the term equipment lists have been sent out to the whole school at the same time as the acceptance letters for the future first-years. Everywhere she turns there are wizards in robes of all colours, some adorning their Hogwarts House colours on scarves, gloves and the like as they proudly carry around their books for the start of term. She finds herself thinking about the equipment list in her pocket and has to suppress a giddy smile.

They start off in Gringotts, of course. Lucius goes down to the vaults alone, so whilst they wait Dru tunes in-and-out to the conversation her Aunt and Draco are having. Draco is sniggering under his breath at the goblins; the odd one or two that overhear him shoot filthy glances his way. Dru watches her Aunt quietly remind her son to be polite and rolls her eyes. Dru is very fond of her adopted brother, all the more so now that Draco's eldest brother, Pavo, has disowned the family. For all that they are closer now they've endured Lucius' wrath together, Dru still thinks he can be insufferably stupid sometimes. As she wonders what they would do to him if they heard him cackling at the size of their noses, her Uncle Lucius returns with a purse full of shiny, golden coins. Draco’s eyes are greedy, but Dru barely bats an eyelid before turning to enter the Alley once more.

Their next stop is Flourish and Blotts. Dru has always loved books, so as she roams the shelves looking for the books for first-years and pulling copies from the shelves, she notices more than a few titles she'd like to read. Thankfully, the deep Malfoy purse allows her to purchase all of them. She's more than thankful for her Aunt encouraging her reading; where Draco is not allowed to buy the books he wants under his father's hawklike gaze- “You aren't reading that filth, Draco, _please_ pick something a little more suitable for your status”- Dru puts every book that catches her eye into the bag for Narcissa to buy her. She also collects several of the books Draco was looking at, an act that earns her a warm smile from her Aunt. As Narcissa and Lucius take the books to the till to pay for them, Dru turns to her brother.

“Uncle Lucius is being a complete pig today,” she murmurs to him.

“Father is always a troll whenever we have to go shopping as a family, pixie. Don't you remember shopping for Pav? We all had to go, and it was always horrific.”

“I bought you some of the books you were looking at while he wasn't looking, dragon,” Dru whispers to him.

He turns to her with a genuine grin. Draco is terrified of his father, but Dru is not scared of him. This works out in their favour every time. Dru does the dirty work; she's always been the one who'll run the schemes, fetching and hiding and collecting behind her Uncle's back to get her and her brother what they want. Draco picks up the pieces with his mother's help. Hopefully, though, Dru will get away with the books just this once. They watch cautiously as Narcissa shows the contents of the bag to the man running the till. Lucius seems uninterested, watching out of the window at the people shopping. Draco physically relaxes when the man hands Narcissa the change for all the books.

“Here you are, Dru darling. I bought you and Draco a new bookmark, too, black leather, isn't it lovely? Here, put them in your bag.”

As the heavy books are placed into her charmed bag, Dru finds herself thankful magic exists. Without it, she'd never have been able to carry everything, and she knows for a fact her Uncle would never have helped her. No, he's far too busy looking down his nose at everyone walking by them in the street to actually be helpful shopping.

“Right, it’s time for robe fittings,” Lucius says curtly as they leave the welcoming bookshop behind.

“Not today,” Draco whines. He turns to Narcissa. “Mother, you said we could come back to do that closer to the date. You said we were only here to get everything _else_!”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, if you don't rethink your attitude then I shall be forced to reject your place at Hogwarts. Don't try to tell me you think I wouldn't. You really think I couldn't sweep it under the carpet? I've dealt with worse slights to the Malfoy name,” Lucius snaps, glaring coolly at his son. Draco falls suddenly silent, looking hurt and almost tearful. Dru feels a familiar sense of anger flare on behalf of her cousin. She knows that her adopted parents miss their eldest son, especially on days like today, but the way he treats them both is unfair. She wants to yell at him to stop making Draco upset, to stop making him doubt everything he does to try and be a good son and picking on his flaws at every opportunity he gets. She doesn't give a damn about herself, but she hates to see her adopted brother still being hurt because Lucius misses the son he lost. She knows better than to speak, though. Bringing up Pavo is a very bad idea around Lucius, even if she's only trying to defend Draco, who is terrified of his father and he still feels like he lives in his exiled brother's shadow. She and Draco traipse along Diagon Alley a few steps behind Lucius and Narcissa glumly until they reach Madam Malkin's establishment.

Dru has her robes fitted first with little complaint – the only time she says anything worth getting shouted at over is when she curses at Madam Malkin for accidentally poking her with a pin. Aunt ‘Cissa just glares at her, and Dru is eternally thankful that her Uncle isn't actually in the shop, or she'd have earned a lecture on 'respectability' that she's heard so many times in the past year she could probably recite it word for word alongside him.

The other child who'd been having their robe fitted alongside Dru leaves with her parents in tow just as Draco steps up on the podium, sighing loudly. Dru's mood shifts from bad to worse. She does love her brother and gets fiercely protective of him, but he's a petulant brat when he wants to be and she hates it. He slumps sulkily, sticking his hands in his pockets and moping in front of the mirror. It takes Madam Malkin some time to get him to stand up straight, so Dru decides to tune out her brother's complaints and tugs out _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration._ She's already expecting to have to work hard to earn respect, in whatever House she's put in, and besides, Transfiguration has always interested her. The bell above the door rings loudly, meaning someone else has entered the shop. Dru looks up expecting it to be her Uncle, but it’s just another boy here for his first robes. She loses herself in her book once more, taking no note of whatever it is Draco says to him as they have their robes fitted together.

It’s when Draco shouts “I say, look at that man!” that Dru lifts her head once more. There, standing by the window of _Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions_ , is the _biggest_ man she's ever seen. She has read of giants before and for a few seconds honestly believes he has to be one, but then the exact words of description come back to her and she realises with a twinge of disappointment that he's far too small to be a _real_ giant. He's mildly interesting, what with his appearance and his eccentric behaviour- he is excitedly pointing at Fortescue's ice cream parlour. His eyes are on the boy Draco is speaking to, the one who entered not long ago for his robes, so she turns to him. There’s not much about him, really, she thinks. He’s of average height with black hair just as unkempt as her own can be and horrific round glasses that make him look kind of owlish. _Such a m_ _uggleborn_ _,_ she thinks to herself, rolling her eyes and turning back to her book. Transfiguration is far more interesting than her brother trying to make friends.

Once Lucius re-joins them they set off for Ollivanders Wand Shop, shoving their way through the hustle and bustle of the crowded alley. It is a very slender shop; hanging above the front window are peeling, golden letters that read _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382_ _BC._ Dru has passed this shop during many travels to Diagon Alley, always wondering what it is like on the inside. In her mind, having a wand makes her a proper witch, although her Uncle has always insisted her pureblood status makes her a 'true witch', whatever that means. Dru isn't even sure she believes him, as she doesn't know her parents- and therefore can't prove she's a pureblood like Draco and his parents. They step through the door of the shop to the welcoming notes of a tinkling bell and a musty scent that reminds her of the old library back home, except here there is a slightly _magical_ addition. It is as though the sentiments of the wands held within are clinging to the dust motes in the air. It is eerily quiet in the little place considering the chaos outside. It's almost as though the shop was meant to be empty for them. Dru is entranced by the thousands of tiny boxes piled upon one another behind the wooden counter, until a voice floats through to them from somewhere in the maze of corridors behind the counter. 

“Good afternoon!” it calls softly from somewhere in the maze of wands. Dru jumps a little at its suddenness, although the speaker is gentler than anyone she's ever heard before. Dru looks around for the source of the voice and out of nowhere an old man is suddenly stood before them. He's short; only a few inches taller than Dru herself, and stooped. His skin is more wrinkly than anything Dru's ever seen and he looks unimaginably old, but when his gaze lands on Dru his eyes are bright and piercing.

“Hello,” Narcissa says curtly, more than slightly flustered at his sudden appearance. “We are here for their first wands.”

“Of course, Mrs Malfoy!” cries the old man, his gaze switching from Dru to address Narcissa. “Elm and dragon heartstring, yes? Ah, it only seems a moment ago that your wand chose you... and Mr Malfoy, Elm and unicorn hair – yet you don’t seem to be using it any more…” He eyes Lucius’ cane disapprovingly. Lucius shifts slightly under his gaze and then glares at him impatiently. Then he turns to Draco.

“And here is young Draco. Welcome to the world of magic, sir, yes indeed, there are undoubtedly great things ahead in your future! We shall find you a suitable wand, indeed. I wonder if Elm runs in the family? Ah, just a moment!’

And then Ollivander is off, roaming shelves, muttering to himself in mumbled tones and dancing around the shop until he settles on the first wand, pulling the lid from the box and carrying it back to him reverently. “Here we are – Elm and Dragon Heartstring, nine and a half inches, slightly flexible. Give it a wave!”

Draco does as he’s told, eyeing the wand with a hungry excitement that has Dru silently wishing she’d been the one to go first. Angry-looking red sparks shoot out of the end, and everyone ducks away from Draco, who looks at the wand in confusion.

“No, no, no!” Ollivander mumbles, taking the wand back from the boy and flicking through his collection once more. “Try this. Elm and Unicorn Hair, eleven inches, unyielding.”

Once again Draco waves the wand; every box in a ten foot radius throws its lid onto the floor, and the wand then proceeds to fly out of his hands and straight back in to its box. Draco stares after the wand with indignantly as if offended by the piece of wood. Dru snorts at the thought and receives a dirty look from her brother.

“I don’t think Elm _is_ your type,” Ollivander concludes. “Here, let us try something a little different…” He is gone for some time, this time, but when he returns he is holding a very neat-looking wand. Dru can't help drawing the comparison between her brother's perfectly put-together appearance and the sleek wand. It certainly looks right for him.

‘Hawthorn and Unicorn Hair, ten inches, reasonably pliant – give it a try!’

When Draco waves the wand this time, every lid thrown on the floor flies back to its place in a quick, neat bundle. Ollivander claps merrily and Draco smiles. “There you are, wonderful!”

Then Ollivander turns his wide eyes on to Dru, who stares back at him defiantly. Dru expects him to speak after a few moments, but the strange thing is that he just gazes at her for quite some time. In fact, he stands there for so long that she begins to wonder whether or not he is stuck there – but then he releases a breath and straightens up a little more.

“Druella Gaunt.” He says her name as though tasting the syllables. “Yes, I know just the wand for you.” He leaves for a moment; when he returns he’s holding a white wand. “Yew and dragon heartstring, twelve inches, unyielding.”

Dru feels a sense of unease as she takes the wand. Something about the look in Ollivander’s eyes has unnerved her. She takes a breath to steady her nerves and flicks the wand determinedly. Every drawer in the room flies open in response, some flying from their place and clattering across the room in the group's direction. Much like with Draco, the Malfoys and Ollivander duck as the drawers collide with one another all around them.

“Oh dear, what a mess! Never mind, my dear. Never mind!” Ollivander seems oddly happy about the mess she's created; Dru would almost say he sounds relieved. She brushes off his odd behaviour and focuses on what he's doing as he roots through more boxes. She cares more about discovering which wand is for her than the strange old man's habits. Narcissa waves her wand and puts the drawers back into their proper places as Ollivander hunts for another wand.

“I think… I believe I may know the wand for you...” he mumbles to himself as he hunts through boxes. He brings out another and hands it to her. “Apple and Dragon Heartstring, nine and three-quarter inches, slightly flexible. Give it a wave!”

Dru waves the wand once again and yelps as it grows incredibly hot to touch; as soon as she drops it the wand bursts in to flames. It lies smouldering, ashen, on the floor.

“Oh, my!” Ollivander looks down sadly at the wand. “The fault is mine, child. Oh, but it was a beautiful wand…”

He bends down and immediately begins looking through more boxes again, scurrying around them all.

“Hmm… I wonder…”

He pulls out a beautiful looking wand. It's a warm orange-brown colour, serpentine in shape. It looks like it's wriggling a bit, like a snake mid-slither.

“Cedar and Dragon Heartstring, twelve and a half inches, unyielding.”

She takes the pretty wand and gives it a wave; it glows a warm sort of gold at the tip, and Ollivander calls out happily. They pay fourteen gold galleons for the two wands and leave the shop. Lucius is muttering about how strange Ollivander is, but Dru finds herself preoccupied with how oddly the old man acted towards _her_. Had she done something to upset him? But she couldn’t have. It was as though he was upset until her wand chose her; after that he seemed to have an excitable air about him, as though he had just been told some really, really good news. She finds herself pondering that as they split from Lucius once more. Dru doesn't bother asking where he's going. In the mood he's in, he'd be like as not to beat her with a belt when they got home, and she really does not want that. She just quietly goes with her Aunt and Draco, who is fawning over his new wand.

Next up is Eeylops Owl Emporium. Narcissa instructs them that they can each pick an owl. Dru doesn't know where to start, so instead she allows Draco to choose for them both. Naturally, he picks the two biggest, most expensive owls in the shop – a girl and a boy, both with beautiful thick feathers the colour of soot, disc-like faces and strikingly yellow eyes. The man behind the till informs them they are a breed called 'Great Grey' as Narcissa hands him the money for them.

“I want the boy,” Dru says, taking the handle of his cage excitedly. “We should call them Feather and Nib – like quills.”

“Nib? Yours seems to be a nibbler, all right,” Draco says, eyeing Dru’s owl warily as it bites at the bars of its cage.

“Then yours can be Feather,” she says, beaming at her cheeky pet. This will be perfect for scaring off anyone who annoys her- she can just ask him to peck people.

“Now, the owls are just for your mail – we’re going to get you both another pet each.” Narcissa smiles at them both as they leave the shop and head further down the street to Magical Menagerie.

“Is that allowed?” asks Dru as they wander into the tiny, cramped building.

“Lucius will sort it out for you both,” she assures her. Dru is suddenly glad she is part of the Malfoy family- even only as an adopted child. Lucius' connection to Hogwarts as part of the Governors will be invaluable in the future, she thinks to herself as she leaves her Aunt's side and begins to prowl round the shop looking at potential pets. Draco stays fairly close by her as they admire the puffskeins and various amphibians, but the moment he sees the cats he half-runs to them in excitement. Dru rolls her eyes. She doesn't _dislike_ cats, exactly, she just prefers other pets. Her attention drifts over to the reptiles. In a glass case complete with heating charms and beautiful obstacles for the snake inside rests a tiny snake whose scales gleam brilliant green under the heat lamp. A helpful shop assistant wanders over in her general direction.

“Perfectly friendly. Handled enough, they're docile as cats.”

“What kind of snake is that one?” asks Dru, pointing at the little snake. It lifts its head from its coils lazily to watch them.

“It's called a smooth grass snake. We haven't named this one yet; she's only a baby.”

“She's a girl? She's so pretty,” Dru says, watching the snake as it flicks its tongue in their direction, smelling them. “I think I want her. Aunt 'Cissa? Aunt Cissa,” she says, turning to her Aunt who is admiring some beautiful snails in a tank.

The helpful assistant goes to collect the snake and the vivarium for her, and she joins her brother at the cat section of the shop.

“Are you getting a cat or a kitten?”

“A kitten,” Draco answers. “I want to watch it grow up.”

Dru nods and then looks at the playful ball of kittens behind the glass fence. “They're cute. Which one do you want?”

Draco looks at them all and shrugs. “I can't decide. They're all cute. I like that fluffy one, right in the middle. It's really playful.”

The assistant that helped Dru has finished packing the baby snake and her new vivarium away and he joins the children at the edge of the cat play-area. “The fluffy white one, there? Ah, that's the flame point Siberian Forest Cat. Beautiful cats; friendly, intelligent and playful. As she grows up, she'll stay white, but get a golden tinge to the end of her fur around her face and on her tail, like her mother over there. Yes, the one in the corner.”

Draco debates between a white Siamese cat and the Siberian for some time, and then finally decides on the Siberian. He cradles the kitten in his arms once the assistant has picked it out of the group and while he collects the things it will need, just as he had for Dru. He hands Dru a box with her snake curled in it and a comfortable cage for Draco's kitten. As Draco settles her carefully into her cage, he settles on a name.

“She'll be called Casiphia.”

Once Narcissa has paid the dumpy man behind the till- his eyes light up with glee when he sees the full money purse Narcissa pulls from her bags- they head back to the Leaky Cauldron, where Lucius sits awaiting their return with a coffee in hand near the corner of the pub. Narcissa orders the children a hot chocolate each and joins Lucius with a coffee of her own. Draco is crooning over Casiphia, but rather than doing the same with her snake she watches the Malfoys talk in hushed whispers. She’d love to know what Lucius is up to, but chances are he’d respond with some cutting remark that’d just leave her sulking for days, so she wisely stays quiet. She still tries to listen in, but her adopted parents are talking too quietly, so she sullenly turns to her drink, sparing half a glance at her snake who sits curled demurely in her travel box, waiting to be let out.

As soon as they get back to Malfoy Manor she does exactly what they told them not to do- she begins to pack. She heads straight to her room and delves into her enchanted wardrobe, exploring through the endless rails of clothing. Dru loves skirts and dresses, and her wardrobe reflects that. Her preferred colour is red- it’s her favourite and she seems to suit it the best, but she has many colours stored away. Not only are there colours, but there are varying styles as well; short dresses, long dresses, ball gowns, dresses for special occasions... everything she could ever imagine. Her eyes roam over the ocean of cloth as she begins to pick out things to take to Hogwarts with her. She picks out a select few of her casual dresses in varying lengths; some long, some much shorter, and then picks a few from the collection of tights- endless pairs in varying thicknesses- to deal with the weather. She picks out robes and cloaks to go with her outfits, and then some of her thicker winter ones- they're all designed to keep her warm no matter what the weather throws at her, but she's going to be living a lot further north than she's used to and she's not quite sure what to expect. She throws it all into the trunk that rests at the end of her bed. She doesn't bother to fold it- she knows that the house-elves will do that for her closer to the time.

Next she carelessly chucks in a variety of nightgowns and pyjama sets, freshly bought and yet-to-be-worn, along with a pair of fluffy green slippers that she’d pestered Lucius in to buying her a few weeks back. She packs shoes, too. In her wardrobe there are shoes of every colour and design. No heels, though. She can never imagine wanting to walk around with sticks on the sole of her shoes just to look taller. She’d asked Aunt ‘Cissa why she wore heels when she was about six years of age and Narcissa had simply chuckled in response before returning to her afternoon tea. Her confusion over the odd footwear is yet to be rectified. She pulls her favourite winter boots from her wardrobe and looks at them, debating whether to pack them or not. She's already packed a matching pair of plain shoes for every single outfit in the trunk. She holds the boots up to the window. They are tall- they sit comfortably on her legs just a few inches underneath her knees, and they're entirely waterproof with thick laces at the front to tie them. The soles are thick and have sturdy grips. They're good for walking, something Dru loves; she has spent countless hours in the maze of the Malfoy Manor gardens, exploring and making dens the gardeners would not find. She still finds old dens now, although the gardens don't seem as infinite as they did when she was very young.

She looks into her bag full of shopping and realises with a jolt she's forgotten all about her snake. She doesn't look happy with her new owner as Dru pulls the vivarium out of the bag and hastily sets it up, double checking the heating charms are still working before opening the baby snake's tub. She tumbles out unceremoniously onto Dru's bed and hisses.

“ _The box is not welcoming,_ ” the snake complains. “ _This one forgets all about the one in the tub, indeed, such a waste of such a beautiful snake..._ ”

Dru's eyes widen in shock. “Can I... did you say something, snake?”

The snake tries to move feebly and then hisses in a sound that Dru interprets as a frustrated sigh. She continues to hiss to herself, ignoring Dru.

“ _This one_ _lets me be cold. I dislike this place. Let me go back to the place with the warm and the food... oh, so much tasty food._ ”

“ _I can feed you_ ,” Dru says to her. She doesn't expect her to respond, but wants to apologise anyway. “ _I'm sorry I let you be cold._ ”

“ _This one, she apologises for_ _cold?_ _Maybe this one is not so bad after all, although you did leave poor, beautiful baby cold for such a very long time, I nearly became solid from the cold..._ ”

“ _It was not that long_ ,” Dru says defensively. “ _Wait- you... you understand me_?”

“ _Yes._ _This one_ _speaks the language I know. Snake speak_.”

“ _It... sounds just like normal for me._ ”

“ _Is_ _this one_ _going to make me warm and find me food? Bacon is good food_ ,” the baby snake tells her helpfully as Dru slowly picks her up in her fingers.

“ _I'm... Dru_ ,” Dru tells the baby snake, searching for a moment for the word to represent her name. In English, it would probably translate to 'star-pattern-girl', but it works well enough. “ _Your new owner. I'm going to be fetching you food from now on, yes_.”

The snake hisses happily and slithers in a circle in Dru's palm. “ _Owner_ _? Excellent! More food for me._ _Dru is a good name for a snake, perhaps less good for a... not snake_ _._ ”

Dru thinks for a minute. “Purly!”

Purly appears in seconds. “Yes, Mistress Gaunt? How can Purly help?”

“I want some food for my snake. Bring me some food for her. And a few pieces of bacon. She's only little so cut it small.”

“Yes, Mistress Gaunt.” Purly vanishes into the Manor somewhere to obey. Dru looks back to her snake.

“ _Do... do you have a name, little snake_?”

The snake raises her head and looks at Dru curiously. “ _No. Only a little snake. Names come later._ ”

“ _So I can name you?_ ”

“ _N_ _ew mother. Bring me food, give me warmth. Yes,_ _Dru_ _can name me_.”

Dru grins and turns to look out of the window. After a moment, Purly appears with a plate of food for her snake, and a sandwich for Dru. She curtseys and then vanishes elsewhere. Dru turns to the plate and takes the snake over to pick at the food.

“ _Lilith._ ”

“ _What did_ _you_ _say?_ ”

“ _Your name. I think it should be Lilith_.”

Lilith hisses appreciatively. “ _Lilith. Lilith likes the name_ _new mother_ _has given me, yes. Now, where is food? Is this food all for Lilith?_ ”

Dru laughs despite herself and strokes Lilith's head with a finger before letting her slide off her palm and towards the food. “ _Yes, the food is for you. Don't make yourself sick though, little snake_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> druellabellatrixgaunt.tumblr.com is the place to be if you have any questions...  
> -Liss x


	3. Platform 9 3/4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, Laura here just to say I hope you enjoy the chapter! Quick reminder that we own nothing but the character of Druella Gaunt. It's a day early but I'll be busy tomorrow so I just thought why not. Anyway, enjoy! -Laura
> 
> (Pssst: druellabellatrixgaunt.tumblr.com for questions, yeah? -Liss x)

When Dru wakes up on September 1st it is at the hands of her house elf, Purly. The creature stumbles back nervously as soon as her mistress’ eyes flutter open, but Dru merely ignores her as she throws her quilt back.

Light filters through the floor length dark curtains, as Dru has yet – in all the five years she's been living in this bedroom – to summon enough effort at the end of the day to close them properly. Lit up from behind, the curtains look the colour of fresh blood, although in reality they are a much earthier colour. The half-inch gap between them provides just enough light for her to see around her room for what feels like the last time ever as she wakes up properly. The carpet is thick wool the colour of rich red wine and as Dru swings herself off the bed her toes curl into it appreciatively. The claret red floor is broken by a large rug the colour of cream that sits in the middle of her room. It is sheepskin, or so Purly told her once when she asked. The walls are spelled into two colours, because when she was getting the room decorated she couldn't decide on which colour would look best. The upper two thirds of the wall are cream, and the lower third is an ombre transition to the same claret as her carpet. The skirting boards are pitch black. She stands and looks around in her night dress, frowning at the fact that she feels like she'll never come back to this room. To her left, Purly is making her bed, pulling the red and brown quilt back over a black bottom sheet and plumping the matching pillows. Once she's finished, she puts the two creamy coloured pillows back in place on top of the quilt that Dru throws on the floor every night. Dru knows that the moment she's left the room, Purly will strip the bedding and replace the sheets with fresh ones, as she does every morning.

Directly across the room from her bed, she has a large desk with a comfortable armchair placed in front of it. The armchair did not match the room's décor, so her Uncle Lucius had it spelled to match. It is cream, just like her rug and the walls, and she usually keeps a red blanket thrown over it to stop any dirt from accumulating, but she packed the blanket- Transfigured by Aunt 'Cissa to a more neutral grey colour, to fit into whichever House's décor she ends up in- in her trunk going to Hogwarts. The armchair looks bare and alien to Dru now. The small mirror on the desk is reflecting one of the beams of light from the window at her feet. The only new additions to the desk are the cage for her owl, the little box that her Aunt has set up as a temporary home for Lilith because her vivarium is packed away, and her wand, which she looks at with a small sense of glee. The trunk to go to Hogwarts is on the right hand side of the desk, close to the door to her room, which currently stands slightly ajar. The last time Purly Apparated into her room to wake her, Dru nearly beat her to death with a slipper, so Purly instead Apparates just outside the doorway and slips in through the door as quietly as possible.

The wardrobe and the window are both on the opposing side of the room to the doorway. The enormous window sits straight in the middle of the room. Dru likes the view she has over the gardens of the Manor, and has in the past spent entire days simply watching the garden, pretending she was an Empress holding court; she would watch her 'empire' and talk to the imaginary subjects that populated the grounds of the Manor. Often, Draco had joined her as her chief advisor. When they had finished 'holding court' Draco and Dru would go on 'adventures through the Empire' in 'disguises' that usually consisted of large hats and long coats. Together they would run around the gardens of the Manor, hiding from the gardeners and other 'subjects' of the Empire who might recognise them, fighting imaginary enemies with wands made from twigs and swords made of bigger sticks. Once they tired, they would sit and together they would talk about history and what they wanted to do in the future, as if they were really royalty or imperial lord and lady. Dru grins at the happy memories. The wardrobe sits just to the side of the window, near the desk. Both are made well, sturdy and minimal but elegant in the same breath, and varnished to look darker and glossy. Overall, Dru thinks as she heads over to the desk to get ready for the day, her room gives off a comfortable feeling, and she likes that very much.

She hopes that whichever house she ends up in will have a common room and a bed that is as comfortable as her bedroom here in Malfoy Manor. She isn't sure she'll be a Slytherin yet. Pavo disowning the family name means that Draco's family honour basically resides on him being a Slytherin, but Dru isn't sure if the Malfoys are as keen for her to be a Slytherin as they are their only remaining son. What happens, she wonders uneasily, if she ends up in Ravenclaw- or worse, Gryffindor? She knows she's not a Hufflepuff. They're too nicey-nice for her- all unwavering loyalty and friendliness. Her already powerful penchant for wandless hexes proves she's not cut out to be in a house like that. For a moment, she allows herself to dwell on what would happen if she turns out not to be a Slytherin and the Malfoys kicked her out. She has no idea where Pavo lives now, and she doesn't even know if she'd be able to get in touch to ask him to help her. She would be even more alone than she is now, in a house with people who she doesn't really feel she fits in with any more. She gulps and wishes that not knowing didn’t bother her so much. They’re not her parents, anyway. Why should she care? Purly opens the curtains and her brief moment of reflection dissipates. She sits in front of the mirror at her desk, and sets to getting ready for the day.

Once she has attempted to tame her black curly mane she pulls on her new Hogwarts robes and the muggle coat that Aunt ‘Cissa picked out for her. They cannot turn up to the station without attempting to conceal their robes, as too many wizards in one place will tip the muggles off – just seeing trollies full of strangely titled books and owls in cages confuses them enough. Despite her dislike for most muggle clothes, Dru cannot help but appreciate the long, slender black coat that buttons up and ties around her waist. She puts her black Hogwarts scarf on too, making sure to tuck the badge inside her coat. Then she orders Purly to take her trunk downstairs. The house elf obeys instantly, dragging the trunk slowly out of the room before Apparating to get help. Dru watches her leave and then looks over at Nib's cage and smiles fondly at the bird. He's very loyal to her already and she can't help but love him. She sits to the desk, where on a plate sits a slice of hot buttered toast and a cup of apple juice.  She eats the toast quickly, feeding the crusts to a grateful Nib. When she opens the tiny box that Lilith is contained in, she hisses sadly.

“ _Feeding the other one, the one who looks at Lilith like Lilith will be food. Why do you not feed Lilith? Lilith is sad_.”

Dru laughs. “ _I fed you a few days ago, you can't be hungry quite yet. Are you ready for today?_ ”

Dru lets Lilith slide around her wrist. She's grown lots in the past two months, and is now big enough to hold herself there for an entire day if need be, although it does tire her. Dru had explained that she was not allowed a snake, and Lilith had agreed to be smuggled into the school on her wrist not long after. She pulls her robe sleeve down over Lilith's head.

“ _Are you secure there, Lilith_?” Dru asks her quickly.

“ _Yes, Lilith is secure. Lilith will stay here all day, as agreed._ ”

“ _Thank you, Lilith. Try to stay quiet if you can- I don't want anyone to know you're there._ ”

“ _Lilith will obey. Lilith hopes your day is enjoyable_ ,” comes Lilith's curt dismissal.

Dru grins at her snake. She's blunt, and Dru likes it. She looks around at her room one last time, slides her wand into her boot to conceal it and grabs Nib's cage. He nips at her fingers fondly, hooting quietly.

“Shh, Nib. You'll be out of your cage when we get to Hogwarts, okay?”

She looks behind her one last time as she leaves her bedroom and lets the door swing shut behind her. The journey down to the hallway seems to last forever. Nib nibbles at her fingers as she walks, true to his name, but he doesn't actually hurt her. She's the first one down to the hall, so she sits on her trunk and puts Nib's cage in front of her, staring down the hallway towards the ballroom and dining rooms.

“Aren't you bringing that snake?” Draco asks nonchalantly as he leaps his way down the last three steps, his face breaking into a grin and betraying his pride as he lands safely. Feather rustles her feathers in protest at the jolt, but stays quiet. Dobby and Purly hobble down the last few steps carrying Draco's black trunk and then Dobby collects Casiphia's crate and takes it to Draco. Draco gestures for him to hold it, so he steps in line with Draco. Casiphia mewls quietly.

“Cas, shh,” Draco tells her. “You can't come out yet, we're not at Hogwarts.”  He looks over at Dru expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“She’s on my wrist,” Dru murmurs.

“How did you get her to do that?”

“What? Stay there? I just told her to.”

“And she _understood_?” he asks, shocked.

‘Well, yes… I thought everyone could talk to snakes? I can talk to her, at least...”

“Mistress Gaunt,” Purly squeaks, earning twin glares from the children. She flinches under their cruel gazes. ‘Terribly sorry for speaking without being asked, Mistress Gaunt and Master Draco. But Purly wanted to tell Mistress that she is a parselmouth.”

“Parselmouth,” Dru says the word slowly, as though tasting it. “What’s that mean?”

“Parseltongue is the language of the snake, Mistress. Purly knows it well, Mistress, as when He—“ Purly never gets to finish that sentence, for she is interrupted by a well-aimed boot in the back from Lucius.  She falls to the floor unceremoniously and looks to her Master with eyes filled with fear. Lucius' eyes narrow as he takes in the house-elf.

“Punish yourself accordingly, Purly,” is all he says to her.

‘Yes, Master Malfoy. My apologies, Master Malfoy.’ Purly scrambles to her feet and curtseys deeply, then Apparates elsewhere to punish herself. Dru doesn't quite understand what she's done wrong to be punished, but she knows better than to ask. Especially as the punishment was related loosely to something about her.

Lucius turns his gaze to Dru. “You will get rid of that snake, understood?”

“But Uncle Lucius, you let me buy her—“ Dru begins grumpily.

“It was a mistake. You can get another pet at Christmas. No snakes.”

Dru gulps. She loves Lilith far too much already to let her go, and knows that Lilith would never forgive her if she did. She thinks fast. It's not obvious she has her snake with her, clearly, or Draco would never have asked where she was, so-

“I left her upstairs anyway,” she mutters sulkily, putting it on just a little to make it believable. “I’ll go find a house elf to release her.”

Lucius looks at her sharply, determining whether or not she's telling the truth. Her lie rings true enough that Lucius nods curtly after a moment, though behind his back Draco is watching her with one white-blond eyebrow raised accusingly. She turns her eyes to him and gives him a look that screams _if you tell him the truth I’ll hex you in to next week_ before wandering off in the general direction of the kitchens. Instead of finding a house elf, she takes one last trip to the library to take up some time. She knows she will miss the comfortable reading chairs in the room as she walks through, trailing her fingers over the books and smiling at familiar titles she has read often throughout her childhood.

She also knows that as much as she will miss the library at home, the books in the Hogwarts' library will more than make up for any homesickness she might feel, especially considering how awkward living with the Malfoys has been since Pavo disowned the family. When she returns to the hallway, her Uncle Lucius and Draco are already in the car along with all their luggage. Aunt ‘Cissa stands in the doorway, beckoning for her to hurry up. She follows her Aunt and climbs in besides Draco in the back. She glares at the raised partition between the back seats and the front, both annoyed she cannot listen into her adopted parents' discussion and relieved that her Uncle Lucius is much less likely to see Lilith if he is sitting in front of her. Still, she tugs the sleeve covering Lilith a little further down over her hand, just in case. As the driver begins to pull away from Malfoy Manor, Draco watches their childhood home silently. Dru knows that he's scared of voicing his feelings, but she's more than aware of the nerves and excitement he feels. 

Dru barely spares a glance back at the Manor. She has felt increasingly unwelcome there of late- Lucius has been colder with her than normal, and even Draco, usually so open with her, seems to have pushed her away, though Dru isn't sure if that's because his father has been lecturing him at length on the responsibilities being head of the Malfoy household will entail or if she's done something wrong. Either way, Malfoy Manor has stopped feeling like home to her. She looks out of the window instead, half wondering whether she'll ever find somewhere she fits in, hardly daring to hope she'll find it at Hogwarts. Slowly, her thoughts shift from the prospect of finding a home at Hogwarts to her newfound knowledge on parselmouths. Why, she wonders, is Uncle Lucius so angry that she can speak to snakes? Is being a parselmouth a bad thing? She stares out of the window for what feels like forever before turning to her brother.

“Have you ever heard of Parselmouths?” she asks him quietly. The partition might be up, but she doesn't want to risk her Uncle hearing her.

“No, but Father acted very weirdly when Purly told you you are one. I wonder why.”

Dru shrugs. “Don't have a clue. Maybe we’ll learn about them at Hogwarts, or something.”

“Or perhaps you could ask one of the Professors. I'm sure the head of your house will know about them.”

“Merlin, Draco, have you been _reading_?” she teases. She remembers reading about heads of houses in _Hogwarts: A History_ and grins at her brother. He just pouts at her.

“I was curious. I want to know what to expect and seeing as Father won't talk about it with me, I thought I'd better learn for myself. We don’t want to be walking in as clueless as a couple of mudbloods, do we?”

“I guess not,” she murmurs.

The drive from Wiltshire to London lasts for around two hours- she's done it before, to wave goodbye to Pavo. To pass the time, Draco flicks through a spare copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ and telling her interesting facts as he comes across them. Dru mumbles responses under her breath, stroking Lilith from under her sleeve and wishing she dared speak to her little pet. She wants to know why Purly telling her about being a parselmouth was worthy of punishment. It is no secret in their home that her adoptive parents were Death Eaters, so what could possibly be worse than _that_? Why hide something as minute as parseltongue from her, yet openly admit that they were willing servants to the Dark Lord’s cause? It makes no sense to Dru. Lilith pokes her head out of her sleeve, looking at Dru curiously. She makes no noise, but Dru can tell she's aware of her confusion.

“Put that thing away. Father might see.”

“Does she scare you?” Dru sniggers.

“No,” he huffs, but she can tell from his stiffened posture and the way that he's glancing towards the front that he is, though she can't tell if he's afraid of the snake, or of what Lucius will do if he finds out she lied to him _again_. She is tempted to ask him to prove it, but then Draco looks again at the front of the car and she realises that her Uncle will end her if she's caught with Lilith, so she lets Lilith go back to sleep coiled tightly around her wrist without another word to her brother.

Eventually, Dru falls asleep in the car. She wakes suddenly to Draco shaking her arm, exclaiming excitedly that they have arrived. She notices him glancing in to the front of the car as he does so. Lucius is still grumpy about losing his eldest son, and anything Draco does that might reflect badly even for a single second on the Malfoy name will draw an 'appropriate punishment' from his father. She knows that he is cautious of looking ‘too excited’ to be going to Hogwarts. Dru is also inclined to keep her excitement hidden, but only because she'd rather watch than dance about and be a nuisance. Their chauffeur collects a couple of trolleys for the children and then helps them load their trunks and pets on to each. Once they have finished he straps them down and then they both take the handles of their respective trolley. Dru makes the effort to thank him, but Draco is far too busy admiring the muggles entering and exiting the station. He has never been one for manners in any case.

‘ _Quickly_ ,’ Narcissa snaps, ushering them inside. They follow Lucius through the crowd, who seem to separate as they gaze at the two owls, cat and odd clothing the wizarding family are wearing. Ignoring the stares, they continue up to the pillar between platforms 9 and 10. When Dru notices that Nib's cage isn’t quite strapped on safely she stops to adjust it, earning her a steely glare from her aunt.

‘Dru, what are you doing? _Hurry_!’

‘He was going to fall!’

‘Never mind, never mind,’ she huffs before turning to her son, ‘Draco, sweetie, go on through; with your father, now.”

As Draco and Lucius run at the barrier, Dru thinks about how long she has been waiting for this day. _Finally_ she is getting away from her Aunt's pestering and her Uncle's bitterness and lectures on family honour and tradition, not to mention the importance of blood purity. She believes his words are the truth, really – she just gets sick of hearing about it, and it makes her uncomfortable that she doesn't know her parents to prove her blood purity. He’s like one of those wizened old buffoons who sit in the Leaky Cauldron, groaning on constantly about what it was like _back in their days,_ and she hates it.

Dru looks at her Aunt. She's glancing around nervously- she's always been cautious around muggles. Her shoulders are all tensed up, and she looks like she wants to flee whenever one of them walks just a little bit too close. Muggles are almost alien to the pureblooded family, but then again, it seems they are just as alien to them. They are staring at Dru’s owl and the robes peeking out from under her coat with a strange sort of fascination, whereas Dru is gazing at their strange trousers and blazers in distaste. She has seen many wizards in muggle clothing, but it has never been quite so… bland; so boring. This whole building screams muggle. The posters advertise their muggle transport and gadgets that are completely lost on her. _Why don’t they move?_ She wonders. They have invented so many devices in their ignorance of magic; she’d almost feel sorry for them if they weren’t _muggles_.

“Dru, come _on_!”

She takes off running with her Aunt ‘Cissa by her side. For a second a strange sense of displacement churns her stomach, and then they are on the platform. _The_ platform. The one she's spent years gazing at photographs of, photographs of her adopted parents from their Hogwarts experiences. Platform 9 ¾. In person it is even more wonderful than in photographs. The train itself is a bright, polished red and she beams at it, glad to see the splash of her favourite colour. A timetable overhead simply reads _Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock._ Dru can’t hide it; she finds herself grinning broadly, pleased to finally be there. She turns back to admire the excited crowd of students and their parents. Plumes of smoke from the chimney of the train fly overhead, and a cat meows shrilly at its owner from beside her. She looks down at Nib. He seems to be curiously taking in the sudden crowd, but as ever, seems decidedly unruffled by the sudden shift in location.

“Alright, you two,” Aunt ‘Cissa says, claiming their attention once more. Draco looks just as awestruck as Dru feels, though neither one of them would ever admit to it.

“You must get on the train now, alright? Find a good seat whilst you can. Come along, I’ll get one of the stewards to help you with your trunks.”

“… Give us a look, Lee. Go on!”

They pass a small gathering of boys, who are all gazing at a boy with dreadlocks excitedly. He lifts the lid of the box he is holding slowly and the creature inside reveals a long, hairy leg. The crowd of people shriek in horrified glee. Dru wants to see if the creature is a spider or something slightly more interesting, but Aunt ‘Cissa shepherds them by without a second glance at them. Dru can't find it in herself to be sad about the missed opportunity, however- she's boarding the train she has spent her entire life dreaming about.

Eventually they find a compartment. Once they’ve got help with their hand luggage, checking they have money and essentials ready and everything is stashed away, Narcissa pulls the children in for the tightest hugs Dru thinks she has ever given them. As her Aunt speaks softly to Draco, Dru slides into the empty compartment. She wonders what it would be like to have her own Mother and Father bid her farewell instead of her Uncle and Aunt. But Dru knows very little about her parents except two startling facts: they were Death Eaters, and her mother, Aunt 'Cissa's sister Bellatrix, is spending the rest of her life in Azkaban. As far as she's aware, her mother is also completely insane, and couldn't look after her even if she was out of prison. She's never been told for sure who her father is, but she presumes Bellatrix's husband is the man responsible for her existence, though her Aunt and Uncle have never really verified her assumptions one way or another.

Slowly, the compartment fills with other people. First to enter are Crabbe and Goyle. Almost clones of one another and certainly never apart, both boys have been friends of Dru and Draco their whole lives. Shortly after they arrive, a tall, thin boy enters and sits in the corner quietly, smiling at them all. Dru recognises his face from a photo in the Prophet a few months ago, and realises after a moment she is looking at Theodore Nott. A girl Dru doesn't recognise at all follows him in and sits primly on the chair in front of Dru. Draco spends a while catching up with Crabbe and Goyle, but Dru soon finds herself becoming bored of their talk of Quidditch. She turns to the unknown girl, who is staring out at the passing London buildings.

“I'm Druella Gaunt,” she says by way of introduction. “Who’re you?”

The girl, with a short, sleek bob and a slick of pink lip gloss, looks up from the window politely. “Pansy Parkinson.”

“I’ve heard of your family, you’re in the sacred twenty-eight, aren’t you?”

“Yep. You’re a Gaunt?” She gives Dru a somewhat doubtful look, “I thought the Gaunts were all mental.”

Dru almost corrects Pansy by explaining that she is, in fact, a Lestrange. But she stops herself. The Gaunt family name is, at least, still slightly more respectable than the Lestranges- if only because it is something of a mystery nowadays. “I don’t actually know my parents, so I’m not sure. I live with Draco and his parents – my adoptive parents.”

“Draco Malfoy. Pleasure,” Draco says, taking Dru's mention as an opportunity to introduce himself. His Quidditch conversation seems to ground to a halt as the introductions begin.

 

“Theodore Nott- but please, you can call me Theo,” Nott says, nodding at the group. “So, we chose a clean carriage. What a pleasure. What house do you all reckon you’ll be in?”

“Slytherin,” Draco says immediately.

“Same here,” Crabbe adds.

“Me too,” says Goyle.

“Probably Slytherin,” Pansy nods. “My family have all been Snakes at Hogwarts.”

Everyone turns to Dru, who shuffles her feet slightly. She’s not a nervous person but doesn’t exactly enjoy the attention, especially as she's not sure whether she can trust the two new acquaintances she's made. “Slytherin, most likely, but... I wouldn’t mind Ravenclaw that much.”

“I had a cousin in Ravenclaw. Weird as hell,” Theo grimaces. Draco nods sympathetically. “I’m pretty sure it will be Slytherin for the lot of us.”

The talk returns to Quidditch after that, and even the admittedly-reluctant Pansy joins in the conversation, explaining that she enjoys flying, just... not so much as a sport.

Once they’re out of London and passing green fields in a blur, a plump, dimpled old lady taps on their carriage door, pushing a trolley and smiling at the new first-years warmly.

“Anything from the trolley?” She asks. Everyone helps themselves to an array of treats- everyone except Dru, who despite her usually gargantuan appetite is too distracted by the journey to eat. She just buys a pumpkin pasty and juice. She slides some into her sleeve to give it to Lilith, but she feels her snake turn her nose up at the food. She can almost hear her little hiss complaining that it is not meat in the back of her word, but true to her word, her snake says nothing.

“I got Agrippa!” Goyle grins happily, holding his Chocolate Frog card up proudly. “I’ve been wanting this one for ages!”

“Babayaga,” Draco grimaces. Dru knows from his whining in the past he has at least seven of her. Of course, he tries to barter with the ever-incompetent Goyle for his newly-acquired Agrippa, and soon it becomes a free-for-all, with everyone bartering and bidding over one another to try and get cards they are looking for. Dru, not having any Chocolate Frog cards of her own, simply sits and watches the chaos.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” Dru says after a while, but no one is really paying too much attention. Draco waves at her as she leaves them, but then returns to arguing animatedly about the potential value of his Babayaga card in comparison to Agrippa. She slips out of the carriage and gazes up the aisle, spotting a couple of older-looking Ravenclaw girls giggling excitedly.

“-but can you _believe_ he’s actually real?’ one asks.

“I know! _Harry Potter_ , starting at Hogwarts! I can't even.... Sandy said she’d even spotted that scar whilst he was getting on the train!”

“Oh, Sandy’s a fibber – but I know Anne saw him heading towards his compartment. I wonder what house he’ll be in!”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“Apparently he’s sat with one of the Weasleys – they’ve another brother just going in to first year now.”

Dru is mildly intrigued. She's not really one for gossip, but... this is Harry Potter, after all. The whole Wizarding World is interested in Harry Potter, for Merlin's sake, and... well, if he's a first-year like her, she might be able to make friends with him. Friends with Harry Potter, she thinks. Wouldn't Draco be jealous? Smirking to herself, she begins peering in to every compartment she passes, wondering if she’ll catch a glimpse of the boy famous for defeating the Dark Lord; the one who helped put her parents in Azkaban when she was just two years old. She feels no resentment towards him for it- he was only a baby himself, she reasons. She has heard so many tales about him – about the shape of his scar, that the reason he defeated Voldemort is because he’s going to be much darker a wizard than he ever was.

She eventually stumbles across a carriage with just two young boys inside. One boy has the trademark Weasley red sprouting from his scalp and the other has a mop of black almost as uncontrollable as her own. It parts slightly on his forehead, revealing the lightning shaped scar. He’s a spectacled, slightly owlish looking boy wearing clothing that looks distinctly muggle. Everything he wears is too big for him, and looks slightly ragged. Dru wonders if the family he lives with are poor. She remembers to knock on the door slightly before opening it; she wants to at least _attempt_ to be polite, and she's sure he's had students barging in and watching him the whole time he's been on the train. She doesn't want to be amongst that number. As she opens the door they turn to her expectantly, Potter still chewing on some liquorice wands. Weasley’s eyes are a pale cornflower blue, and Harry’s are impossibly green. His eyes would most certainly be his most defining feature, if it were possible to overlook the fame of the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

“You’re Harry Potter,” she says bluntly.

“Uh... yes.”

“It’s not a stick on or anything, then. The scar… it’s real?”

“I'd say so. I have lived with it my whole life after all.”

She nods and takes a seat beside him. He stiffens slightly in response and she remembers that she hasn’t introduced herself. Cursing internally, she wishes for a moment she had the charisma of her brother. She might have better luck with the awkward boy in front of her if she did.

“Druella Gaunt, but call me Dru. I hate Druella,” she tells him, staring unabashed at the scar on his forehead.

“Harry, but you already know- and that’s Ron Weasley.”

“Pleasure,” she says, finally turning to Ron and offering him a tight smile for politeness' sake.

“You look familiar... wait, I saw you in the robe place!” Harry exclaims after a moment. “You were sat reading one of our school books.”

“Flattered you remembered,” she says wryly. “Though I'd wager it's only because of my hair.” Harry grins at her, and even Ron sniggers in the corner. Encouraged, she presses on. “I'm sorry, I can’t say I remember you… no, wait, you might have been talking to my brother. I was reading when he had his robes fitted.”

“You didn’t look alike,” Harry says to her.

“I’m adopted.”

“Oh, sorry,” Harry flushes. “So am I.”

“Yeah, I knew that. I think everyone does.”

“Oh... uh... yeah,” Harry falters. “I keep forgetting everyone knows about me here. So, uh... are your parents- I mean, are they-?”

“Dead? No, they’re in Azkaban.”

Ron's face pales at the same time that Harry furrows his brow, confused.

“Azkaban?”

“Azkaban is wizard prison,” Ron says for Harry's benefit.

“When you got that scar and the Wizarding War ended, a lot of Death Eaters were put in Azkaban. My parents were taken there too... so the Malfoys adopted me.” Dru pushes her hair back from her face with one hand and looks at him earnestly. She hopes she is making a good impression.

“Death Eaters?” he asks, looking even more confused.

“That’s what everyone calls the Dark Lord’s followers.”

“You really know how to bright up the mood,” Ron says to her. “I don't reckon Harry wants to talk about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or about his scar. We've seen Merlin knows how many people parading up and down the train looking for him already.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry tells him. “At least she's talking to me about it. It’s better than people just whispering about me like everyone else is doing.”

“Hey, I am still here,” Dru reminds them good-naturedly. “Look, see, I can even do this-” she grins cheekily at Ron, reaches over, and steals one of his liquorice wands.

“Oi!” yells Ron. “That was mine!”

“S'okay Ron, you can have one of mine,” Harry says, giving him a replacement and grinning at Dru. She smiles back. She likes Harry already, and- surprisingly enough- she doesn't really mind Ron, although she knows her Uncle would be angry she's 'fraternising with blood traitors'. He was with Pavo before he disowned the family.

Still, she thinks, sitting back again, Uncle Lucius isn't here. And Ron Weasley is certainly not the most annoying wizard she's ever met- he can actually converse, unlike Crabbe and Goyle, for example. Ron eventually relents and smiles at her a little bit and she knows she's forgiven. Situation resolved, she turns back to Harry.

“So, Harry. You grew up with muggles?”

“Yes. My Uncle, Aunt and cousin in Little Whinging, Surrey.”

“How is it? Like it much?”

“Not really, but I don't suppose I can do much about it,” he says glumly, looking down. Dru brushes her hair away from her face again. She understands how he feels, but she doesn't know if she can trust the two new friends she's made enough to tell them that.

“I'm sorry. Must be horrible, going from a top-notch wizarding family to _that_. I’m just grateful my adoptive parents are purebloods, too.” She doesn't know why she says it, and already is grimacing in the back of her mind- she knows what Ron is going to say.

“Blood purity doesn’t matter,” Ron says in a voice so sour that Dru is half tempted to hex the cheeky git. She reminds herself he's not too bad, and instead decides to return to her brother and tell him about Harry before she has a chance to ruin things with Harry Potter and his new friend.

“It's just what my Aunt and Uncle think... I think I'd better go. I'll see you around, Potter... Weasley.”

“Bye, Dru,” says Harry.

“Gaunt,” comes the curt dismissal from Ron, though his eyes are friendlier than his tone suggests. She nods at him and smiles at Harry.

The door swings shut behind her, and she wanders slowly back to the carriage with her brother in. When she arrives, everyone seems to have lapsed once more into silence, so the news she brings is a welcome topic of discussion.

“Harry Potter's on the train.”

“Is he really?” asks Theo Nott, looking up from his hands. Even the disinterested Pansy turns to look at her as she settles back onto the seat.

“I was just sat in his carriage talking with him. It's really him. I saw the scar and everything.”

The discussion starts back up again; this time, they're contemplating the fame of Harry Potter, and which house he'll be in, and who he'll be friends with. When Dru mentions he was sitting with Ron Weasley they all turn their noses up as though something’s gone sour. She makes sure not to tell them that Ron isn't actually as terrible as she's heard the rest of the brothers are, though. No point spoiling what little good reputation she has so far with the two new pureblooded children- she needs to maintain friendships her Uncle Lucius will approve of, after all.

“I think I'll have to take Potter under my wing,” Draco is drawling cockily. “Poor boy. Raised by muggles, he's no idea how the world works. We'll have to show him how things are done, eh?”

There is a chorus of titters from Crabbe and Goyle. Theo just grins. Pansy's smile is one of genuine amusement, but Dru's smile is purely polite; she knows Harry well enough already to know that he won't stand for any of Draco's nonsensical theatrics in the name of reputation.

Nightfall is creeping up on them, Dru realises as she looks out of the window. The vast expanse of sky is slowly fading to a velvet black. As the air cools around the fast-moving train, a slight frost creeps beautiful crystalline pattern around the edges of the glass windows. Dru crams the muggle coat into her trunk and then slips her wand in to the pocket inside her robes, preparing for when they arrive. After what seems a lifetime the train seems to slow a little, and a voice echoes through the train via some kind of loudspeaker.

“The _Hogwarts Express_ will arrive in Hogsmeade in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train to be taken to the school separately. Ensure any loose personal belongings are stowed within trunks. Thank you.”

The others in the carriage begin checking for their loose belongings. Dru takes advantage of their brief moments of distraction to speak to her brother quietly.

“Ready?”

“I think so, are you?” he says. His face betrays his nerves to her, but then he sits a little straighter and his features settle into a more neutral expression.

“Definitely,” she nods. But she can already feel the tangled knots of worry in her stomach as she thinks about the events ahead. The Sorting has them both worried, and they both know it.

Finally the train comes to a halt, and the five of them push their way in to the packed corridor, calling out to one another to stay close by as they make their way through the chattering, rowdy stream of students headed to the platform. As they fight their way off the train, Dru shivers and is glad of the warmth of her clothing- her robes are thick, and help to fight off the biting chill. Their breath steams around them as they bundle together, trying to work out what to do. The older students are streaming off in twos and threes towards carriages that await them outside the station, to take them the last of the way to Hogwarts. Dru can't see anything pulling them, but presumes it's just magic at work. Just as she's about to suggest that they follow suit, she notices the lamp swinging haphazardly over students' heads is actually held by a man who appears to be organising the chaos at the far side of the platform.

Dru looks at him hard, sure she recognises him. He is a true giant of a man, dwarfing even the tallest of the students in the crowds. His bushy beard is black and scraggly, and he wears grubby-looking robes. Dru realises he's the man from Madam Malkin's shop window- the one with the ice creams. His round figure is even more imposing in the half-light of the station than it was in the bright light of Diagon Alley. He calls out loudly, his voice carrying over the sea of people.

“Firs’-years, firs’-years over here!”

The first years, grateful for the instruction, all rush quickly over toward him. Dru and the others end up somewhere near the back of the little crowd.

“All right there, Harry?” The giant beams at a student in the crowd, and Dru follows his gaze until it settles on the back of Harry’s head. “C’mon, follow me – any more firs’-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’-years follow me!”

“What a buffoon,” Draco mutters as they stumble down a very steep, very narrow path. It is proving very hard to distinguish in the near-darkness, especially near the back of the group where the man's light doesn't quite reach.

Dru ignores her cousin’s complaints, instead attempting to make out their surroundings as she stumbles along with everyone else. She thinks there are thick sets of trees around them, but it's really too dark to tell as they make their way down. Aside from one student’s incessant sniffing, there is next to no noise as everyone concentrates on where they’re putting their feet.

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” the giant calls to them. “Jus’ round this bend here...”

A loud chorus of oohs and aahs rises from the students as the narrow pathway rounds a sharp corner and suddenly opens up on to the side of a huge, black lake. Built on a large mountain on the other side of the lake, with innumerable windows twinkling like stars in the night sky, Hogwarts stands proudly, turrets and parapets silhouetted against the navy night. Dru is speechless as the giant pauses to let them take the sight in for a few moments. This visage is better than anything she could ever have imagined as a child. In the back of her mind, she consciously recognises the fact that this moment in her short life is an important one. The image of Hogwarts, silhouetted against the dusky sky, will always burn bright in her memory, she thinks to herself as she takes a breath of the biting air and looks over the lake.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid shouts after a minute, pointing to where a small flock of boats are sitting in the water by the shore. Dru and Draco climb in to a boat with Crabbe and Goyle, and everyone else seems to just find a space wherever they can.

“Everyone in?” Hagrid calls. He has a boat all to himself. “Right then – FORWARD!”

All the boats begin moving at once, floating smoothly across the water. The only noise is the lapping of water against the sides of the boats; everyone is silent, staring at the castle that will become their school for the next seven years.

“Heads down, people,” Hagrid calls out into the silence as the first boats reach the bottom of the cliff that Hogwarts stands upon. Everyone ducks as their boats sail them through a thick curtain of ivy that hides a large opening in the cliff face. The boats continue on into a dark tunnel that leads straight into the cliff, under the castle. Eventually, they arrive in a dimly lit underground harbour. The students scramble out onto the rocks as they dock.

“Oy, you there! This yer toad?” Hagrid asks of one of the group, checking all the boats as students climb out.

“Trevor!” cries an all-ears boy joyfully, eagerly holding out his hands. Dru cringes as he grabs the toad. She has no idea who would accept a pet like that when they're so slimy. She thankfully strokes Lilith under her sleeve, who appears to have finally woken up again and is curling round her wrist again and again, still silent.

“This way,” Hagrid says as the last students scramble from the boats. Dru falls into step beside her adopted brother as they follow the giant. All is silent except for the pattering of footsteps along the stone passageway. Eventually, they are spat out onto the grass of the castle's main courtyard. The grass underfoot is frosty and the students' footsteps crunch as they follow Hagrid up a few steps and crowd around an oak door larger than Dru has ever seen before. Hagrid turns to the students briefly, looking around at them as if to quickly count them.

“Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?”

And then Hagrid lifts a giant fist and knocks on the castle’s door three times.


	4. The Sorting Hat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that we own nothing with the exception of Druella Gaunt, Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling and this novel is based entirely on her fabulous work. We really hope you enjoy these next couple of chapters guys, a lot of thought has gone in to the quirks of the Slytherins. They deserve as much recognition as the Gryffindors - plus everyone should know they're merely misunderstood and not evil by default. So yes, enjoy!  
> \- Laura
> 
> You should check out druellabellatrixgaunt.tumblr.com tbh. Yes, I'm gonna plug the blog in every chapter from now on alright ;) -Liss x

The heavy doors swing open immediately, making Dru jump a little. Behind it in the doorway stands a tall, thin witch with a drawn face, round glasses perched precariously at the end of her nose and long black hair pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She tucks her wand away in a pocket of her brilliant green robes. Dru gulps as she surveys the students and Hagrid calmly. This woman looks more scary than her Uncle Lucius does, even when he flies into a rage.

“The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall,” Hagrid says after clearing his throat awkwardly, nodding his head at her in greeting.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”

 At McGonagall's gesture, the first year rabble troop warily through the door. Draco's hand finds its way onto the very edge of Dru's sleeve as they move, but Dru knows better than to point it out. Knowing Draco the way she does, he would only swear he was keeping his balance or something equally as stupid. Besides, the slight tugging at her sleeve makes her feel better too, reminding her she's not alone in all this. She feels Lilith move slightly as her robe shifts, and silently sends a message to her snake to stay calm as she walks through the doorway and into the hall beyond.

The Entrance Hall is massive, Dru thinks as she walks through the main doorway and into the building for the first time. Having grown up in Malfoy Manor, she had thought she knew what the word 'massive' meant, but she realises now that she was wrong. It dwarfs even the Malfoys' ballroom. The stone walls are lit with torches, old fashioned ones that she'd seen outside some of the shops in Diagon Alley, and they sit a few feet apart along the walls. They lead her eye along to the wall to a beautiful wide stone staircase- marble, perhaps? Dru wonders to herself- with intricate designs carved into the pillars of the banister. There are ten stairs and then a huge room beyond, and in the dim light from the torches Dru can see portraits, moving around. They look like they are trying to catch a glimpse of the new students. There are also majestic stone staircases leading to the rest of the castle. Professor McGonagall gives them a few more moments to take in the enormity of the view, and then catches their attention and leads them across the huge stone flags past the closed door to the Great Hall. Dru gulps as she hears the buzz of the school behind the doors, and Draco's hand tightens on her robe surreptitiously. McGonagall leads the first years into a small chamber just along the wall from the Hall. The group crowds together tightly, wondering what comes next, peering around nervously.

Professor McGonagall clears her throat and looks down at the children once more. They fall into silence and look up at her expectantly. “Welcome to Hogwarts,” she begins. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall through here, you will all be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is an important ceremony; while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time within your house common room.”

Dru glances around. It is easy to tell who is a muggleborn here; those that are look utterly entranced.

“For the muggleborn witches and wizards among us, the four houses are named Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards throughout history. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes pick out a few students directly at her feet, and Dru notes Harry Potter and the Weasley brother standing a few feet in front of where she is, closer to the front. Potter's hands try to smooth his hair down to no avail. “I shall return when we are ready for you,” she says finally. “Please wait quietly.”

With that, she sweeps from the room. The whole room erupts into whispered conversation. Dru hears Potter whispering to the Weasel. “How exactly do they sort us into houses?”

She rolls her eyes. Of _course_ the great and mighty Harry Potter wouldn't know how they're going to to be sorted, she thinks. Ron mutters something back at him that she distinctly hears involving 'brothers', 'troll' and 'test' and she wants to hide her face in despair. Were all these wizards actually right when they said Harry Potter killed the Dark Lord?

Meanwhile, Draco rolls his eyes as he sees Potter talking to the redhead, and considering it a personal offence that the only living offspring of the Potter bloodline is talking to a blood traitor, he decides to make a move. Dru knows he's jealous of the fact that she's seen and spoken to Harry before her. He barges through the crowd of people to where he stands, looking every part his father's son. Dru follows suit, if only because she wants to catch another glimpse of Potter's eyes- no, the scar, she corrects herself. She wants to see his scar again. Draco stops short just behind Potter in the room and taps him firmly on the shoulder. He turns, his face curious. Dru makes sure she stands just to the side, trying to watch without Harry noticing her.

“Yeah?”

“You're Harry Potter,” Draco tells him. Dru has to suppress a smirk as she realises he's copied her without meaning to. If she tells him, she knows he'll be furious.

Harry Potter rolls his eyes, clearly bored with that conversation starter. “Yeah, so everyone keeps telling me.”

“I'm Draco Malfoy. I don't suppose you're going to know much about the wizarding world, what with growing up with mudbloods,” he says quite cordially, though Dru can hear the stifled hisses and gasps of shock of the others who understand the weight of the word around them.

“It would be my honour to help you work out-” and here Draco pauses, looking at Weasley coldly- “who it would benefit you to know. Who your real friends will be.” He sticks his hand out for Potter to shake.

Potter looks at him for a moment, and the group around them holds their breath as they wait for his response. He looks down at Draco's outstretched hand and Dru silently wills him to take it and shake his hand. _Come on, Harry Potter_ , she thinks, _make being friends with me a whole lot easier. Please_. But he doesn't. After another second, he shakes his head just a little.

“Thanks, but I think I can work out who my friends are on my own,” he says politely, and then he turns- he _actually turns_ away from Draco to face Ron Weasley again. Weasley looks at Draco with cold hatred in his glare, then he too turns back to face Harry and the toad boy.

Draco sputters silently, but by this point, the attention of the little group around them is focused firmly on the Sorting. Dru can hear whispered conversations from Potter and the people around him just in front of her, but they're talking too quietly for her to properly listen in. One of the girls near him with hair just as bushy as her own is muttering to herself. Dru barely spares her a second glance as Draco turns to her, scowling viciously.

“Damn Harry Potter! Who does he think he is, snubbing a Malfoy like that?! I'll make him pay...” Dru just shakes her head at him and then tunes his furious muttering out, thinking about the Sorting Ceremony ahead. She has almost totally tuned out from reality when several people behind her shriek in fear. She leaps about a foot in the air, as do plenty of other people around her. They turn as one to face the back of the room to the sight of a large group of ghosts streaming through the walls. Numbering about twenty or so, they float towards the first-years. Dru boggles at their appearance. A foggy, pearly white colour and somewhat translucent, they look entirely ethereal. They are arguing, Dru realises after a moment, and she looks at Draco, confused. He stares back at her just as perplexed, and they turn back to the ghosts after a moment.

A tiny, stout monk dressed in a ragged old robe is speaking. “-forgive and forget. I say we ought to give him a second chance-”

Another ghost in a ruff and tights interrupts him. “My dearest Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?”

The monk grins as he takes in the sight of the baffled and silent students. “New students! About to be Sorted, I suppose?”

A few people nod slowly.

“Well now! I hope to see a few of you in Hufflepuff! I'm known as the Fat Friar- Hufflepuff was my old house, you know.”

Just at that point, Professor McGonagall sweeps back into the room. “Move along now, please,” she tells the ghosts. “The Sorting Ceremony's about to start.”

The ghosts all nod or doff their caps in respect to her and drift through the wall towards the Great Hall. McGonagall watches them leave, then turns to the first-years. “Now, form a line, single file if you would, yes, that's right,” she says encouragingly. “Follow me.”

Dru jostles alongside Draco to get a place in the line without disturbing Lilith. She is jammed against Draco's back and behind her stands a boy with sandy coloured hair. Behind him stands Potter, and then the Weasley boy. She recognises the people from the carriage she sat in on the train towards the back of the line. The girl, Pansy, smiles at her as she catches her eye, and then they are moving into the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall leads them back across the stone flags of the Entrance Hall, her shoes clicking loudly and echoing in the space around them. She pauses for a moment and the double doors swing open to reveal the Great Hall.

Dru's breath is taken away. Even in her wildest dreams- even with the descriptions that her Aunt 'Cissa and Uncle Lucius have given her several times over- she could never have imagined beauty like this.

The Great Hall dwarfs the Entrance Hall with ease. Dru looks up and swears to herself the walls keep on rising forever, roofless, into the clear skies of the night outside. Of course, her Aunt and Uncle have told her all about how the ceiling of the Great Hall is enchanted to reflect the sky outside, but she never really believed it would look quite this convincing. Professor McGonagall leads the first-years down a wide aisle directly in the middle of four long tables that stretch almost the length of the hall. On the table the far left of her as she shuffles down the hall, next to the wall, the benches are populated with students in robes boasting a rich green trim, and they watch the new students with an air of disdain, most sitting absolutely still. Slytherins, Dru remembers from her discussion with Draco in the car on the journey from Wiltshire to London. Closer to her, the middle table on the left, sit students with blue trimmed robes, and Dru notes that they watch the students curiously and they too sit reasonably still as they watch the first-years file in, as if a sudden movement might startle them into running. Like an experiment, she thinks. She swallows nervously. They can only be the Ravenclaws.

To her near right, the benches are stuffed with yellow-trimmed robes. Most of the students crowding these benches are smiling warmly at the newcomers, and one or two of them wave subtly at the students as they file along the hall. Hufflepuffs, Dru forces herself to recall to quash the butterflies in her stomach. Yellow is the colour of Hufflepuff's house. To the far right of Dru is the table with the most movement. The students seated there jostle for the best position to view the newcomers, and they grin and wave openly at the first-years, laughing quietly at their faces when they look over. The trim of their robes is red. Gryffindor, Dru thinks. When she sees a row of red hair and two identical boys waving excitedly to a point just behind her she sighs internally. _Definitely Gryffindor_ , _then._ All of the tables are laid with hundreds upon hundreds of glittering golden plates and matching cutlery and goblets, and Dru hopes food will be served soon as her stomach rumbles loudly.

Her attention shifts from the students and the tables to the Hall itself. It is lit with thousands upon thousands of candles, floating right the way across the Hall about six feet above the tables, bobbing slowly as they burn. The candles even float above the table at the end of the hall, which is stretched out horizontally. The staff sit there, Dru remembers her Uncle telling her, and sure enough, along the table sit adults. In the centre sits a regal man with a long thick beard- Dumbledore, she realises, as she's seen his face a few times on Chocolate Frog cards. Behind them, in the centre of the room opposite the huge double doors of the Hall, sit four enormous hourglasses. Each is filled with crystals of a different colour, corresponding to the four houses. Dru realises these must be the house point hourglasses that Draco mentioned from _Hogwarts: A History_.

Gryffindor's hourglass is decorated with gold filigree that curls around the base and top like flames licking at a log. The 'flames' fall about halfway down the top of the hourglass, but the shapes are hollow and the fiery red crystals can be seen filling the top. The base of the hourglass has thinner shapes and they only rise around a quarter of the base to allow students to see the fallen crystals in comparison to the other houses. Hufflepuff's has intricate straight line patterns forming strange rectangular shapes in a shining black in a thin rim around the top, bottom and the narrow middle, contrasting beautifully with the brilliant yellow gems that are encased within the top of the glass shape. Ravenclaw's has bronze feathery shapes that overlap around the middle and two plain solid bronze bands around the top and bottom of the hourglass, and like Hufflepuff's hourglass, the bronze is the perfect colour to compliment the glittering blue inside the top half of the hourglass. Slytherin's hourglass is the one Dru finds most beautiful, though. It has silver filigree, much like Gryffindor's, except instead of fire, the silver filigree looks exactly like a river. It flows- there is no other word for it, thinks Dru as she stares openmouthed at it- around the top of the hourglass, and in two or three thin strands, so as not to obscure the view of the crystals, it falls gracefully down the glass. Dru swears it looks like it is splashing as it curls around the glass base. Just like the others, the base is decorated more sparsely to allow students to see the crystals. And just as the other crystals are emphasised by the decorations, the green crystals contained within the structure are brought to life by the presence of the complimenting silver.

The students gather in the open space in front of the staff table as they reach the end of the hall. Dru stands close to Draco as they line up, facing the student body, the teachers behind them. The almost-silence of students falls away and Dru can hear herself breathing in the hall as Professor McGonagall fetches a high four legged stool from the side of the room. She places the stool loudly down on the cracked flagstone floor and then gently sets a beaten up old wizard's hat on top. The whole hall seems to hold its breath as it looks at the Sorting Hat, and then suddenly a wide tear in the brim opens like a mouth and the Hat bursts into song, filling the hall with a warm, welcoming voice.

“ _Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!”_

The hat actually _bows_ to the students, who begin to clap and hoot thunderously. Once it has bowed to each four house tables in turn, it returns to being still, looking all the more hattish. Professor McGonagall steps forward as the applause dies away, holding an incredibly long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she announces. “Abbott, Hannah.”

Dru watches nervously as a girl a few steps along from her with a ruddy pink face and blonde pigtails stumbles forward and clambers, shaking, onto the stool, stuffing the hat onto her head. It falls right down over her eyes. The whole room pauses and-

“HUFFLEPUFF!” yells the hat.

The Hufflepuff table erupts into cheers as Hannah Abbott lifts the hat gingerly off her head, sets it on the stool and scuttles off down the hall to the end of the Hufflepuff table, where the empty spaces for the first-years sit. Dru watches the Fat Friar wave at her from where he hangs in mid-air a foot or so below the candles.

“Bones, Susan.”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” calls the hat after a moment.

“Boot, Terry.”

“RAVENCLAW!” yells the hat barely a second after it touches Boot's head. Dru thinks Boot looks rather like a fish as he all but runs to the Ravenclaw table. As Boot sits at the table, Dru loses all interest in the Sorting. It's all the same to her what house people are sorted in. The only Sortings that really matter to her are her own and her brother's, after all. She half tunes out the other names and loses herself in her thoughts, waiting for her name to be called.

“Gaunt, Druella.”

She gulps. Her time has come. Stepping forward holding her shoulders straight, pretending that she couldn't care less about the whole ordeal, she heads for the stool. Pushing herself backwards onto it, she lowers the Sorting Hat onto her head where it flops over her eyes just as it had with the silly Abbott girl.

“Hmmm,” comes a voice in her mind. “So much potential.”

“Are you the hat?” she thinks back at it curiously, too overwhelmed to feel much fear.

“Clever girl, yes, and the aptitude for asking questions too, wanting to _know_ so very much! You'd go far in Ravenclaw, my girl... but then again I see the bravery of a lion in here, mischievous girl, fighting your uncle... as well as the cunning of the snake. Avoiding punishment is important for everyone when fighting against injustice... by the way, girl, congratulations on sneaking the grass snake in,” it tells her cheekily, and she squeezes her eyes shut in fear.

“Don't say a word,” she mentally hisses. “I'll get into trouble before I've even started and Aunt 'Cissa will _kill_ me. Wh-where are you going to put me?”

“Well, well! Perhaps not quite the bravery of the lion yet, then... but certainly in time, yes. And the _threat_ , oh poor old me, threatening a hat! There's nothing more for it then-”

Dru hears nothing but silence for what feels like an eternity and then:

“SLYTHERIN!”

The Slytherin table claps and cheers a little for their newcomer and she takes the hat off, places it gently on the stool and scurries down the hall and around to her new house table. As she walks, she realises the grey trim on her house robes is beginning to shift. It moves from grey to green as she walks and by the time she reaches the Slytherin table, she is wearing robes with a distinctive Slytherin trim. The grey striped tie around her neck has also shifted from grey to shades of green to match, and the Hogwarts logo has morphed into a Slytherin one, complete with snake.

“Granger, Hermione,” is the next name called out across the Hall as she slides in next to a girl with long dark brown hair and big brown eyes, another first-year, who smiles wryly at her. “Hi,” she whispers at Dru before turning to the Sorting again. Dru sighs in relief as soon as all eyes are turned back to the next first-year. Slytherin is a safe choice, one that Aunt 'Cissa and Uncle Lucius will approve of. She smiles to herself and turns to watch the other students being Sorted.

The rest of the ceremony flies by quickly after that, and Dru is really too relieved to focus on the names of anyone who. The only Sortings that Dru really remembers are:

“Longbottom, Neville.” The hat sits on his head for a good five minutes before it finally announces “GRYFFINDOR!”

Longbottom runs towards the table with the Sorting Hat still firmly jammed onto his head, and has to walk back to hand it to the next student amid laughter from all the tables.

“Malfoy, Draco.”

As Draco steps forward, Dru tenses. This Sorting is even more important than her own, as Draco's inheritance as a Malfoy rests wholly on becoming a Slytherin. Dru bites her lip as the hat is lowered onto his head, but it barely brushes his hair before yelling “SLYTHERIN!”. Dru sighs with relief as Draco scurries over and sits down next to her, touching her shoulder and then her arm as soon as he's reunited with her. She hadn't really realised how much of the tension in her gut was for her adopted brother until that moment. His subtle touch allows her- finally- to relax. Both of them are safe.

“Potter, Harry.” At this, the volume in the Hall leaps higher as the whole student body dissolves into “Harry Potter? _The_ Harry Potter? Really?” and strains to get a better look at the Boy Who Lived. He steps forward nervously and sits on the stool. The hat doesn't quite cover his whole face, and Dru sees him mouthing something- though she's too far away to see exactly what- as he engages in mental conversation with the hat. After a few more minutes of this, the whole school is on edge waiting to see the conclusion. Dru, too, is waiting for the result.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The roar that comes from the Gryffindor table is loud enough that Dru sighs, but she knows that really, the cheering would have been the same from any of the house tables. She can hear someone yelling “We got Potter, we got Potter!” in glee and shakes her head. Draco rolls his eyes and slumps forward towards the table gloomily, resting his pointed chin in his hand.

Dru really doesn't care about the other students, so when 'Zabini, Blaise' is announced as a Slytherin, she's relieved. Professor McGonagall rolls the scroll up and tucks it under her arm, then carries the Sorting Hat and the stool away. Dumbledore looks over the students and then gets to his feet. He opens his arms wide and smiles warmly at them, as though nothing could please him more then their being in the room with him.

“Welcome!” he announces. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Nlubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

As he sits down again, the hall erupts with cheers and clapping. Dru notes that the Slytherins look somewhat bored with him and merely clap politely, so she follows suit. She can see some of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs laughing. As she joins Slytherin's quiet applause, Draco leans over to her.

“He's insane.”

“He's a genius,” says another first-year sitting nearby them, some girl with dirty blonde hair and green eyes. “I read about him in _Hogwarts: A History_.”

“You don't have to be sane to be a genius,” Dru replies curtly.

After another moment's silence amongst the first years, the large serving platters running along the centre of the table shimmer- or so it seems to Dru- and out of nowhere they suddenly hold piles of food. There is more food than Dru has ever seen. The tables, old and well worn, groan with the sudden influx of weight. Dru's eyes widen as she takes it all in, and for a moment she is too shocked to move. The platters hold a mixture of food, most of which she is more than happy to eat. Roast beef, perfectly pink in the middle and sliced thinly, piled high with a drizzle of gravy, thick slices of roast chicken so juicy they didn't actually need gravy- there is a whole platter of chicken and turkey legs too, steaming hot and still with their with golden, crispy skin- and pork chops, too, a towering stack with the fat trimmed right down, so there is just enough to add flavour but not enough to make them greasy; lamb chops, so tender Dru watches as a student spears one with their fork and it falls apart on the journey to the plate. There is a pile of sausages so high directly in front of Dru she can't actually see the student on the other side of the table from her, and bacon cooked till it's crispy. There is steak, too, cooked to a variety of different tastes, all labelled neatly with a flag and spidering writing. The one closest to her says ' _Well-Done'_ and Draco is poking at one of the steaks on the top with distaste.

“I want a medium steak,” he complains, and no sooner have the words left his mouth than Dru watches the nearest ' _Medium_ ' steak platter send one of the top steaks, still juicy and hot, hovering to Draco's plate. It settles itself firmly on one side and Draco grins. “I could get used to this.”

Dru just rolls her eyes and grabs some sausages, and a few slices of chicken. It feels good to not have Aunt 'Cissa watching what she eats, just in case she 'puts on weight'. She sniggers to herself as she piles the chicken high. Aunt 'Cissa had totally missed out on her frequent trips to the kitchen as a child with Draco in tow, begging sandwiches and sometimes entire extra meals from the house-elves.

“Potatoes, Dru?”

Dru looks up. As well as all the meat, there are boiled potatoes, fluffy mashed potatoes with extra butter on top, golden roast potatoes that are crispy beyond compare, thin chips with salt sprinkled on top... Dru spots a pile of Yorkshire puddings and grabs a couple, adding them to her plate along with carrots, peas and some broccoli. She picks up a gravy boat and douses the whole plate in gravy. Next to her, Draco has piled beef on his plate and is looking for a pot of horseradish sauce. Again, as he asks for it, a jumps up from where it had been lounging further down the table and scurries to him. Dru has to remind him to say thank you. It crashes into a plateful of mint humbugs as it scurries to the next person who has asked, and Dru looks at the plate, bemused. She grabs a drink of pumpkin juice, but notes with happiness that there are other drinks ranging from water through to cloudy lemonade on offer for the students to drink. Just as she's reaching for her knife and fork, she realises that one of the students just a few seats away from her is halfway through a plate of food, one that looks very different to the food that she is choosing from.

“Why are you eating that?” she asks the other Slytherin. She looks like she's a second year, as she's sitting further up the table and appears to be used to the food's rapid appearance. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back into a plait.

She looks up from her plateful and swallows her mouthful, looking at Dru curiously. “I'm a vegan. I can't eat meat, it makes me sick and I don't get any nutrients from it, so when I joined Hogwarts last year my mother asked McGonagall if there are allowances for special dietary requirements. Turns out, they have a whole separate kitchen down below for that. Like they do the usual kind of thing with no nuts in the food for the whole school and stuff, just in case, but if you've got really specific things like me, then there's a whole section of kitchen where they'll make exactly what you need. I can only really eat raw food, so I get platefuls of really nice stuff like this,” she tells Dru with a smile. “There's students who won't eat certain meats because of religious reasons, and the Muslim witches and stuff, they get special meals served to them when they do that fasting thing, they get special passes for curfew exemptions and can come down to the Great Hall in the night, when they're allowed to eat. They get a timetable of their separate meal times. One of our Muslim students, Nasirah, does it.”

“Oh, right. I'm sorry you can't eat meat,” Dru tells her.

“I'm not. I eat just as well as you guys, and at least I know I'm not going to be in crippling pain tonight once I've eaten.” She smiles again at Dru and then turns back to her friends.

By this point, Dru's stomach is doing the equivalent of yelling loudly at her to feed it, so she grabs her cutlery and digs in. She lets out a small hum of pleasure as she tastes the chicken. The food is utterly delicious. It doesn't take either her or Draco very long to finish a plateful, and just as she reaches for the chips to get seconds, a ghost sweeps down the table to study the first years. He is dressed in ancient clothing, and there is silvery blood over his clothing.

“You will all know me as the Bloody Baron. Slytherin house ghost, don't you know.” he says by way of introduction. “If you need Peeves the poltergeist to stop doing whatever he ends up doing, send for me. I'm the only other one he'll listen to, except Dumbledore and those infernal redhead twins.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Baron,” says Pansy Parkinson haughtily. “Thanks for the tip about Peeves.”

“Most welcome. Now, I should hope you will all help Slytherin continue their glory and win the House Cup. Six years running, we have won it! It's most excellent to gloat to Sir Nicholas over there- he's the Gryffindor house ghost, the one in the ruff, yes that's him. Nearly Headless Nick, the students call him.”

Dru watches as he grabs his ear and _actually pulls his head away from his body_. It rests on his shoulder for a moment until he flicks it back into place and engages in conversation with the first-year Gryffindors again. Dru's eyes settle on Potter, who seems to be settling into Gryffindor with ease. He looks over at her and stares for a moment, until Nearly Headless Nick says something else. The Bloody Baron tuts under his breath at his actions and settles into the empty seat next to Draco. He lapses into silence and proceeds to stare blankly ahead, ignoring all that is going on around him. Draco cringes away from him, leaning into Dru.

Once the students finish their meals, the food and residue and gravy remains on the plates fades from view, leaving the plates and platters glittering and clean once more. Dru takes her goblet of pumpkin juice and finishes it, pouring herself a new one from the jugs that still line the tables. She looks up at the staff table to see that she can finally see all of them on their raised platform. Professor Dumbledore takes place of honour in the middle, with Professor McGonagall to his right, as Deputy Headmistress. The other staff members stretch out to either side of them. Dru sees Severus Snape- Professor Snape, she reminds herself- and nods to him quickly, glad to see a familiar face from around the Manor growing up. He looks directly at her, but gives her no recognition. After a brief second he turns back to a small, squirrelly looking man who holds his hands close in front of his chest as he speaks. He wears a royal purple turban on his head, and Dru wonders why he's dressed so strangely. Around her, the first-years have dissolved into conversations on blood purity. The girl sitting to her left is strangely quiet as children of the pureblood wizarding families proclaim their purity to the others.

“I'm Draco,” Draco helpfully supplies. “Draco Malfoy, of course. We've traced our purity back sixteen generations.”

“Blaise Zabini,” says the boy opposite him. Dru remembers he was the last to be sorted. His skin is darker than hers and Draco's, a typically Mediterranean colour with big dark eyes and hair such a dark brown it looks black in the candlelight. His hair curls a little on the top of his head, but is cropped too short to be unruly. “We're an Italian family, and we go back at least fifteen generations. We'd go back further I'm sure,” he says looking coolly at Draco, “except for the fact that some bumbling idiot sent a spell awry and burned down the Record Room at the old Zabini Villa near Sorrento in the early 1560s. They got the contemporaries on the lists again, of course, but many of the older family members were crossed off the list. Mother and I visit frequently.”

Draco smiles politely and offers Blaise his hand to shake. “Fascinating. Do you speak Italian?”

“Sì, per lo più. Volte mi dimentico le parole.” He shakes Draco's hand. Seeing Draco's bewildered expression, he translates. “Yes, mostly- sometimes I forget words. English is my mother tongue, and I learned Italian as a child, rather than growing up speaking it.”

“Ah. Pleasure to meet you. This is my sister, Druella.” He nudges Dru, who turns to face them.

“Dru, if you would. I hate Druella. Pleasure,” she says, smiling sweetly and offering her hand to Blaise.

“Blaise Zabini. Druella Malfoy, then, I presume?”

“No, I'm Draco's adopted sister. Dru Gaunt. I'm a Gaunt. I'm told my bloodline is incredibly pure, but I have no family to ask.”

“A Gaunt? Yes, I've heard of that name. Your family would be the oldest wizarding family I know of, if they were still a part of your life. It's a pleasure to meet you,” he says to her kindly, shaking her hand as he had Draco's. His grip is firm and sure. Dru knows that he's done her a great favour by overlooking the lack of proof she has about her heritage, and that it's probably only her link to Draco as his adopted sister that led him to do so. She's more likely to make friends with the pureblood wizarding families if she has both a Zabini and a Malfoy backing up her claim to the Gaunt family heritage.

Pansy Parkinson is sitting just nearby. “I should hope we are good friends, Dru,” she says in a sickly sweet, sing-song tone. She's looking right at Draco, not Dru, and Dru sighs. She's sure Pansy is a nice enough person- their brief chat on the train proved that- but Draco is the powerful one, and making a show of your allegiances is an important part of Slytherin politics. Suddenly, the years playing 'politics' with her aunt and Draco fall into place. Dru knows exactly what she's doing, and she's glad her aunt taught them both to play the game.

The other first-years nearby them introduce themselves, some more reluctantly than others. Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode all claim pure-blood status, and then there is a tiny smattering of muggleborn Slytherins, who all seem somewhat more reluctant to introduce themselves. The girl to the left of Dru is one such girl. When the little group around them turn reluctantly to her, awaiting an introduction, she sighs.

“Rosalee Elizabeth Dark, but call me Lissa. My family call me Rose and I hate it,” she says by way of introduction, her gaze sweeping round the group.

“I don't recognise your surname,” Millicent says after a moment. “Are you pureblood from abroad?”

“No,” she replies calmly, looking every bit as comfortable among their group as Pansy or Blaise. “I'm a muggleborn.” Her gaze somehow manages to get incredibly cold, as if challenging anyone to speak against her blood status, although Dru can't pinpoint a physical change in her appearance or body language.

The whole group is silent, weighing up the importance of her presence in Slytherin house against her low blood status. Dru realises that Lissa is shaking and decides to speak. “Dark, huh? That's a pretty good name for this house, I'd say. Do you know how far back the last wizard in your family was?”

“I haven't a clue,” Lissa replies honestly, glad for the opportunity to talk. “I didn't even know that there had to be a wizard in my family at some point for me to have magical talent.”

“Oh yes,” Blaise joins in, obviously making his decision based on Dru's response to the girl. Some of the other muggleborn Slytherins have been entirely blanked from conversation at this point; Lissa is lucky. “The magical talent can lie dormant in muggle bloodlines for centuries. You may want to look into your family lineage. If you're related to a powerful witch or wizard from history, well, it would improve your standing in the house, to say the very least. Dark is a good name for a new wizarding family- it's a shame you're a girl, you'd lose the name if you married.”

“I'll have to do that. I think my Aunt has my family tree, one that goes back quite a ways, I remember her saying she'd traced back to the 1600s. Thank you... Blaise, right?”

“Yes, Blaise. It's a pleasure to help. If you have any more questions about famous wizards, I'm sure one of us will be able to answer.”

“If you want to look through the Wizarding Register, I think Hogwarts has an old copy in the library,” Pansy tells her. She smiles gratefully and then stares into her goblet of juice.

“So, who's-”

Millicent is interrupted by the appearance of the desserts. Dru's eyes widen in surprise. There are blocks of ice cream in every flavour imaginable, kept from melting with Cooling Charms, and apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs, jam doughnuts, trifle, jelly, rice pudding, and an assorted selection of fruit. Dru helps herself to a jam doughnut and an enormous slice of apple pie, lifting one of the jugs to find that what was gravy has been replaced with thick cream. She pours an obscene amount over her pie as she bites into the doughnut. Thick strawberry jam drips onto her fingers and she rolls her eyes, wiping the excess off onto her napkin before picking up the spoon and digging into the pie.

“Happy about the pie, Dru? I know it's your favourite,” Draco asks her as she takes her first bite. She just mmm's at him and focuses on her food again, trying to work out how best to move to make sure she can secure a position of respect in the first-years' minds. The only link she currently has to ensure any respect from her peers is the tenuous sibling bond she shares with her brother. Sure, Zabini has publicly shown that he believes her claim of pureblood status is true, but that's mostly a ploy to show full respect for Draco, who's firmly in her camp, and also happens to be the heir to probably the most powerful English pureblood wizarding family, now that Pavo is no longer a Malfoy. It's an act less about her, and more about her brother and his power. Draco has done her a great favour by introducing her to Blaise Zabini, because otherwise, she was unlikely to be a part of the group at all. She has already pushed what little luck she has in the group by speaking to Lissa instead of outright ignoring her as they had the rest of the muggleborns. Of course, slowly the personal ties will be built and politics will be less about status, Dru knows, but that will take some time, particularly in this group of friends. Even then, there will be the odd power battle regardless, but eventually the playing field will open up. Or so Dru hopes, at least, as she finishes her plate. She looks up just in time to see Potter clap a hand to what she thinks is the scar on his forehead and wince. She frowns, wondering what could have caused it to hurt.

Eventually, the students all finish their desserts and the plates fade once more to their original sparkling clean state. Professor Dumbledore stands and opens his arms wide once again, smiling broadly at the students.

“Ahem! Just a few more words, now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices for you. First-years should take note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that, too,” he says, his eyes focused somewhere on the Gryffindor table. Of course, thinks Dru, it would be Gryffindors that think it's a lark to go into a forbidden forest.

“I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term, and anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch by the end of this week. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Dru stares at Dumbledore. Some of the students laugh, but they are very few and far between. There is some hissing from the Ravenclaw table as students start to wonder what exactly is in the third-floor corridor that could result in a 'very painful death'.

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cries Dumbledore. Dru watches as the staff collectively paste a bland, polite smile on their faces and rise to their feet. Dumbledore pulls his wand out from his robes and flicks it once, as if trying to shake a spot of water off it. A golden ribbon flies out of the end of it and writes the words to the school song in the air above the table.

“Everyone pick their favourite tune,” he tells them all with a twinkle in his eye, “and off we go!”

The entire room dissolves into the most discordant cacophony Dru has ever heard, with some students bellowing the song as loud as their lungs will allow and others genuinely singing the words. Dru can hear a soprano voice from somewhere in the Hufflepuff midst reaching a note she's not sure is even possible from a human, so she focuses on the words above Dumbledore's head instead of thinking about it further:

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald,_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling,_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot._

Sleepy and with a full belly, she can't pull a tune to mind straight away, so as Draco sings the song right by her in some tune from a nursery rhyme they heard as children, she simply mumbles her way through the words, speaking them aloud without a tune as fast as she can. The students all finish at different times until the rest of the hall awaits the red-haired Weasley twins, who appear to have chosen an impossibly slow funeral march as the tune for their Hogwarts song. Dumbledore conducts their last few lines with his wand, and as they finish, he is the one who begins the round of applause for them, and claps the loudest throughout.

“Ah, music!” he announces, wiping his eyes with his robe sleeve. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

“First-years! First-year Slytherins, if you would please follow us!”

The Slytherin prefects call them over. The boy is a thin, angular creature with a distinctive scar on his left cheekbone and hair even paler than Draco's white-blond. The girl is his absolute opposite, her skin a chocolate colour and her dreadlocked hair pulled back from her face. “We'll wait here until the other years have gone and show you to the Slytherin common room,” the girl tells them.

The Great Hall empties surprisingly quickly, and while the teachers linger in the room, soon it is just the four houses' first-years and their respective prefects. They all lead the first-years out. Dru notices that the Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors head up the moving stairs, all bundled together so as to fit as the staircases swing around and lead them in opposite directions. Dru wonders where in the upper levels their common rooms are as the prefects shepherd them towards a flight of stairs. The Hufflepuffs break away from them at this point and continue further down the corridor. The first-year Slytherins follow the prefects down the stairs and into what can only be the dungeons.

“Remember, guys, you're not going to find the common room unless you can find your way down here. There are markers to show you the way to the common room- the snakes on the torch brackets, do you see them here?” the girl pauses and points them out. The snake is an addition to the black metal brackets that seems to fit perfectly into the design, but is still noticeable if you are looking for it. The snake on the bracket nearest to them has its tail pointing down the corridor, and its head pointing towards the stairs behind them. “If you follow the snakes, you'll find the area with the common room in it. You'll be able to recognise the entrance if you're in the area once you've seen it. There are books, and a portrait of Merlin. He'll help you find the wall if you ask him nicely and he knows you're a Slytherin, but he can't tell you the password, he's not allowed. We look out for our own in Slytherin, and if you get locked out at any point and can't remember the password, Merlin has another portrait in the common room that he'll use to get someone to come out and collect you, as long as there is someone in there.”

Dru files the information away as the pair lead them down the corridor. For all that the dungeons seem to sprawl forever with odd twists and spiral staircases down to lower levels- “they're off limits, and I wouldn't recommend going down there, I've heard tales of ghosts and other poltergeists who are less likely to prank you and more likely to... well, just don't go down there, okay?”- Dru realises that she's perfectly at ease knowing the path back to the levels above as she follows the other students round a maze of twists and turns. Anyone else... well, they'd likely to be uneasy at best down here. By now, Dru is so tired she's falling over her own feet, and she has to grab hold of Draco's arm, as he's walking beside her. He's just as sleepy, stumbling like she is, and after a moment- appearances and politics be damned- he grabs her hand. She can feel Lilith sliding round and round her arm, impatiently, but she understands that her mistress can't talk to her right now and stays quiet just as she'd promised. Just then, she and the others round one last corner into what looks like a secluded reading room. Dru is too tired to look at it properly, but she makes note of Merlin's portrait smiling fondly at them all.

“Welcome to Slytherin!” he booms at them from his comfortable seat in his portrait. Now you're here, I can go in for the night, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” the male prefect says, stifling a yawn of his own and running a hand through his hair.

“Excellent. See you inside!” He walks away from the group in his portrait until he vanishes from sight. The clearly exhausted Prefects turn to the first-years.

“Remember the password, guys. Just in case you've forgotten, it will be on the house notice board until it's changed. We change it a couple of times a term, so keep it in mind.” The two turn back to the wall just to the left of Merlin's portrait, and in unison speak the password aloud: “Opheodrys vernalis.”

The wall shudders backwards silently, and then slides away to the left seamlessly, leaving wide corridor lit by lanterns floating near the ceiling like the Great Hall. Dru follows the others through, and once they are all in the common room, the stone door slides closed behind them. There are the odd few students still up, but for the most part, most of the students are at least shut away in their dorms. The prefects by this point look ready to drop. “Listen, guys. You know at least half as much about Slytherin as we could tell you. We're all shattered,” says the boy. “Come back tomorrow morning for your welcome talk, okay? Honestly, it's against the rules but you can cope one night without a welcome talk. Girls' dorms are through the doorway in the dome on the right, boys' on the left. You all know your rooms, right? Good. Right, 'night.”

Dru follows the girls round the corner to the right and into one of the rooms for the first-year girls, the one she will be spending the next seven years of her life sleeping in. Once the girls have each picked a bed, the trunks standing in the middle of the rooms levitate into position at the end of each of their beds. She barely even bothers to look at the other girls in her dorm while she undresses and pulls on her black pyjamas that the house-elves have taken from her trunk. The house-elves have also had the foresight to put Lilith's tank out, and return it to its original size. It sits on the windowsill to the right of her bed. Dru lets her snake slither off her wrist and into it once she has checked the heating spells are still working.

“ _This one_ _takes a long time to put me home,_ ” Lilith complains as she slides into the comforting wood shavings and grass on the bottom of her vivarium. “ _Lilith is hungry, is tired of hiding on your wrist, poor baby snake, so ignored and so lonely, not even permitted to speak...”_

Dru ignores the presence of her room mates and decides to reply to her new pet, although she does so by leaning over the tank and whispering as quietly as she can. “ _Sorry, Lilith, I know it was a long day. Thank you for not disturbing me, though._ ”

Lilith hisses appreciatively. “ _Mostly I slept,_ ” she admits. “ _You are_ _warm. Not so hungry really, either. Many smells, though, in the loud place._ ” Lilith flicks her tongue out. “ _This place does not have so many smells._ ”

Pansy notices Dru has smuggled a snake in. “You managed to get a snake past McGonagall? Nice.”

“Thanks, Pansy. Her name is Lilith, she's a grass snake.” Dru is relieved that Pansy either hasn't noticed her ability to talk to snakes, or at least is choosing to overlook it. She's also glad that Pansy seems to think the snake is a good thing. At the minute, any political points she can gain with the other pureblood students is a good thing in her eyes.

Pansy smiles at her, grabbing a sleep mask from in her trunk. “Lilith is a pretty name. I think I'm going to sleep now, Dru. Goodnight,” she says to her, crawling onto her bed and sliding under the covers.

“Goodnight.” With that, Pansy pulls the curtains on her deep green four poster bed closed, and aside from the others settling in their beds, there is silence.

Dru gives in and gets in bed too, although she's too tired to shut the curtains once she's managed to scramble on the slightly too-high bed. Instead, she settles under the covers, smiling at the fact that the bed is almost as big as her one at home, and is just as soft. The pillows behind her head are fluffy and clean. It takes moments for her to drift into sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, just a side note: I don't speak Italian, nor does Laura- if the Italian that Blaise speaks in this chapter is wrong, please blame Google Translate (and if you have a more accurate translation for the words that he says, please do let me know!) -Liss x


	5. Below the Dungeons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm back from my holiday! I hope everyone is well! I wanted to let you all know that we have a blog for this fic where we post chapter updates and other general bits as well- if you're interested, it's druellabellatrixgaunt.tumblr.com! Have a lovely day, enjoy the chapter and we'll update again soon :) -Liss x

When Dru opens her eyes the next morning she has no idea why she's awake; the room around her is utterly silent except for the soft ticking of a clock from Pansy's bed. She rolls over and looks towards the clock, a shiny block of metal and ticking parts, wound by a key. It's enchanted with an alarm that Pansy set- with the consensus of the other girls- to go off at 7am. Dru can't see the time, but she can see that there is two hours left of the alarm ticking away quietly. Five in the morning. Dru grimaces. Five am is far too early to be reasonable, but she's too wide awake to get back to sleep now, so she sits up and looks around the room she'll be spending the next few years in.

The room is circular and deceptively spacious. The door to the corridor and the common room is directly opposite her bed. Dru settles further into the three squishy pillows behind her and wishes she has a comb handy to start on her crazy hair. The bed underneath her is not too soft, but is certainly opulent enough and clearly more than comfortable, considering how well she slept the night before. The green bedspreads are embroidered with a beautiful Slytherin snake at the bottom. Dru makes a mental note to show Lilith, certain she will be pleased. Although the dorm is clearly underwater, it has windows in between all of the beds; because she has claimed the middle bed, she has a window either side of her. The windows are not small, and there are deep stone sills which are perfect for sitting on, or storing things on. In the beginnings of the dawn, Dru can see the water slowly shifting colour through the windows, and watery patterns are reflected on the floor. Her eye follows them across the floor to the brazier in the centre of the room, which sits behind a metal fireguard all the way around, to stop them burning their fingers. The opening to the brazier faces the door, though there are gaps all the way around to allow the heat to spread around the room. Sitting by the opening to the brazier there is a small pile of firewood which Dru hopes will replenish itself- by magic or by house-elves- as though it's only September, she can feel a chill in the air. She vacantly questions what happens to the smoke as the chimney rises to the top of their room and then vanishes into the stone ceiling. As she watches, she shivers, wondering if she should get up to add wood to the fire or just deal with the cold. Eventually she decides that the others will appreciate the warmth when they wake up.

She wills herself to hop out of bed to throw more wood on the still-glowing embers. As she does, the floating green light near the ceiling brightens just enough for her to see what she's doing, sensing that the other girls are asleep still. Despite the green glass, the actual light it shines is warm, rather than leaving an eerie green tint over the room. Dru can't understand it, but presumes it's some kind of magic as she pokes at the fire, trying to remember Purly's advice on keeping fires lit. She adds a few more small chunks of wood, remembering that to build a fire you have to add fuel slowly. Once they've caught fire and are burning, she throws on some bigger logs, dancing from foot to foot and cursing the fact her slippers are packed away in her trunk still. She'll have to unpack tonight, after the welcome talk, and find places to put things. Once she's certain the fire has caught properly, thanking Merlin silently for a house elf who is willing to teach her things she asks, she dashes back to bed. The light in their room obediently dims again as she scrambles back under the covers. As she does, she realises that the girl in the bed to her left is waking up. She can't actually remember who else is in her dorm room except for Pansy, she was so tired last night, and as the girl to her left is the only one who's got her curtains round her bed open too, she looks over curiously. When Lissa sits up, her straight hair sticking out round her face like a lion's mane, Dru can't help but grin. Lissa blinks away sleep and then rubs her eyes, yawning widely. When she realises Dru is awake, she grins awkwardly. Dru motions her over, wanting to apologise for putting her on the spot the night before. Lissa slides out of the bed and grabs a blanket from by her pillow. It's a rich dark purple that compliments the green in the room. She wraps it round her shoulders as she crosses the gap between their beds, but is distracted by the presence of Lilith's vivarium. Lilith is awake, and watches her carefully as she approaches her tank.

“A snake? _Awesome_ ,” says Lissa. “Is it yours?”

“Yeah, she's mine. You can bring her here, if you want.”

“Will she mind?”

“She's not used to new people, but I think she'll understand. Just put your hand into the tank, I'll ask her to slide round your wrist. That's how I snuck her in here.”

Lissa obliges, her toes curling against the cold of the floor. Dru calls out to Lilith in parseltongue.

“ _Lilith, can you slide round my friend's hand like you did mine yesterday? She's just bringing you to me._ ”

“ _Will obey,_ _”_ Lilith says to her. “ _The other is sleep-warm. I like her._ ”

Dru can't help but laugh to herself as Lilith wraps herself around Lissa's wrist.

“ _Am a good snake, yes? Pretty snake also,_ ” Lilith adds, twisting her head to look at herself. “ _Am the most beautiful snake to live. Most beautiful. One day, I shall be biggest snake too. Colossal. Beautiful, colossal snake. Will be able to eat_ all _of the things_ ,” she hisses merrily as she slithers round Lissa's hand. Lissa brings her to Dru, and the moment she can, Lilith flops from round her wrist and begins to explore the bed.

“T _his is good for sleeping, yes. Just right for sleeping. Would sleep here perhaps when I am not so easily lost._ ”

Lissa climbs onto the bed and sits at the bottom, tucking her now-cold feet underneath her and wrapping the purple blanket around her. She is wearing a grey pyjama top and black cotton pyjama bottoms. She watches as Lilith slithers around the bed happily, hissing.

“Did you talk to her?” she asks, curiously. “When I put my hand in the tank?”

“Yeah, I did. I've always been able to talk to her, ever since I got her. But my Uncle said I wasn't allowed to tell anyone,” she says after a moment's thought. It isn't _technically_ true, but it also isn't entirely a lie, so she feels justified in saying it. Uncle Lucius certainly seemed to be reluctant for her to share her parselmouth abilities. “Not every wizard can do it. I don't know anything about it, just that I've always been able to do it.”

“That's cool,” Lissa says as Lilith slithers over to her and flicks her tongue out in her direction. “Tell her I say hi or something?”

“Sure, but promise me you won't say a word to any of the others about me being able to talk to her.”

“Promise,” Lissa says, holding out her little finger on her right hand. “Pinky promise- seriously, you've never heard of a pinky promise?”

Dru shakes her head, baffled. “No, it must only be a muggle thing.”

“Okay, so I guess it came from the olden days when people would actually chop body parts off if you defied an oath or something, right? So you say 'pinky promise' and you link pinky fingers like this-” she links her two little fingers round one another in example- “and it means you mean you promise a little bit more. Like a more serious promise. One you'll definitely keep, no matter what. Though we don't chop people's pinky fingers off anymore.”

Dru nods slowly. It makes sense, she supposes. “Pinky promise?” she asks tentatively, holding out her little finger.

“Pinky promise,” Lissa confirms, linking her pinky with Dru's. “You got me in. I... saw what the other muggleborn Slytherins have to deal with. Nobody's going to talk to them all year. My name is the only reason everyone thought about talking to me. I might not be from a wizard family, but I'm not that dumb. I know what's going on in the house. The only reason I have a chance is because of you. I owe you.”

Dru furrows her brow at the girl in front of her. She's spent her whole life preparing for the politics of purebloods, and Lissa appears to understand it too. Uncle Lucius might have been wrong about muggles after all, she thinks. She eventually recovers herself enough to reply.

“It's, uh. I understand not fitting in, and I felt kinda bad. And you said hello to me when I was sorted.”

Lissa smiles. “So... what's it like growing up knowing magic is real?”

“What's it like growing up and only finding out when you're eleven?”

Lissa's smile falters a little bit and she glances over at her bedside table to the left of her bed. There is a photo frame standing on it. “Scary,” she admits honestly. “It's scary. Mum and Dad were shocked. It was, um, Professor Flitwick, who came to visit us with the letter. He was really nice about it, but I cried on the train. I have no idea what I'm doing.”

“Is that your... family?” Dru forces herself to ask. “In the photo frame?”

“Yes. The picture doesn't move, like the portraits and pictures here do. I... miss them.”

“It's okay,” Dru says. “You'll see them soon, it'll be Christmas before we know it.”

Lissa nods. “Did you ever... like, know who your family are?”

“I know who my mum is. She's in Azkaban. Wizard prison,” she says matter-of-factly as she takes in Lissa's confused expression. “I don't think she'll ever be allowed to leave. Draco's mum and dad look after me. Draco's mum is my aunt.”

“At least you're still with family, and you have a kind-of brother, right?”

“Yeah, that is something. Draco can be a complete pig sometimes, but he's not that bad.”

The girls slide from the bed and decide to dress and look for the bathroom to clean their teeth, as they had both forgotten the night before. Dru pulls on her uniform quickly, glad for the brazier's warmth. Lissa takes slightly longer, deciding finally on trousers rather than a skirt like Dru, and they both tie their ties together, smiling. They pull on their outer robes and Dru slides her feet into little black shoes. It turns out that despite their differences in upbringing, both Lissa and Dru have similar shoes for school, and they grin between themselves as they pull their robes close around them. The squared off entrance to the room has another door in it, they realise as they creep forward with their toothbrushes, and Dru opens it onto a sparklingly clean bathroom. The floor in there is the same flagstones as in their dorm room, but they are warmer underneath, and the walls are painted white. There is one big window that runs along the wall opposite the door. The glass in this window is frosted to stop anything from seeing in while they wash, but they can still see the patterning of the water across the walls and the floor. As in their dorm, there are two floating green lights that brighten as they open the door and creep in silently. There is a huge black roll top bath sitting in the corner of the room by the door on intricately carved black feet. It stands higher than Dru's waist and is longer than she is tall. There is a fluffy green bathmat to one side of it, and silver taps elegantly labelled ' _hot_ ', ' _cold_ ' and ' _bubbles_ '. There are two shower cubicles, both with glass that is frosted like the window, a toilet, and two sinks. All the features are black except the sinks, which are the same green as the bath and shower mats. Dru heads over to the sinks to wash her face and clean her teeth thankfully. The wall has a large mirror in front of it, and as the girls clean their teeth in the cold water Dru takes in her chaotic hair. Remembering the spell Aunt 'Cissa used to use on it to tame it in the mornings when she was very young, she decides to try the spell instead of combing it through. She fishes her wand out of her pocket- smiling at how pretty she still thinks it is- and points it at her hair. Looking at herself in the mirror she takes a deep breath and speaks the incantation aloud, pointing the wand at her curly locks and desperately hoping for the best.

“ _Reneo caesaries,_ ” she says, squeezing her eyes closed tightly as she feels her hair shift slightly. When she dares to open them again, her hair has been entirely detangled. She runs her fingers through her locks in relief. “Oh, thank Merlin. I've never cast a spell before,” she admits to Lissa who is standing, toothbrush still in her mouth, in shock.

Lissa finishes cleaning her teeth and then looks at Dru, who has just finished washing her face and is drying off on the thick, fluffy green towels. “Could you... cast that on my hair? I don't know where I packed my brush and I don't want to dig through and wake people up.”

Dru nods. “It feels weird, come here. _Reneo caesaries_ ,” she says, and watches as Lissa's hair settles into a much neater position around her face. Lissa turns and smiles gratefully at her.

“Let's go into the common room, shall we? I want to look around a bit, I don't really remember much.”

Dru nods agreement and follows Lissa quietly out of their bathroom and into the dorm. The other girls are still asleep, and Dru notes that there is still an hour and forty five minutes before the alarm is due to go off. Lilith is asleep on Dru's pillow.

“ _Lilith, can you hear me?”_

“ _Unfortunately_ ,” Lilith replies curtly. “ _Lilith hears much. Yes?_ ”

“ _Stay on my bed today, okay? It'll be warm in here, you can hide under the covers. Understand?_ ”

“ _Lilith understands. Stay on the warm place good for sleeping, hide from the others. Yes, I can obey. Goodbye_ ,” Lilith says in dismissal.

Once the whispered conversation with her snake is over, they head quietly out of the room and into the silent and dark common room. The lights brighten as they expect, once they are in the common room. Dru looks around and properly takes in the room for the first time, and as she does, her whole face lights up in a broad smile. Her common room is _breathtaking_.

The doorway to their dorms brings them out in a domed section of the common room. Above their heads, the ceiling of the dome is painted in a silvery colour. It is the only colour on the walls here, Dru notices. The rest of the room stretches out in a standard rectangular shape, although the furthest third, closest to the entrance, is raised. It stands three steps higher than the rest of the room. On the left hand side from where they stand, Dru can see a fireplace to rival the one in the Malfoy Manor ballroom. It is lit and already well burning. Around it, there are several black armchairs in leather. In the dome around them sit several tables with armchairs, high enough to write on. Further out, opposite the fireplaces, there are varying low loveseats and sofas and armchairs dotted around, all in black leather. They don't look overly opulent, like she was expecting, but she sees an understated level of quality in everything in the room. There are two or three low coffee tables scattered around also, and a few beanbags. The ceiling is lit with more floating green lanterns that emit the strange warm light. Dru likes them, despite their bizarre colour. They are oddly comforting. The far walls on the upper level of the room are entirely made of bookshelves and Dru grins. She is glad there are books here, although she'd bet her right hand not many of them will be books she's willing to read. The right hand side wall of the lower two-thirds of the room and some of the slanted ceiling above it is made out of an enormous wall of glass. Dru and Lissa both gasp as they take it in. They can see the lake through it, murky water as far as the eye can see. The floor outside the glass window drops away steeply, and Dru thinks she sees a merperson flit through the weeds in the gloom down there, though she doesn't say so aloud. She wonders if she'll ever see the Giant Squid through the glass.

“Probably,” whispers Lissa to her, and she realises she has spoken her thoughts aloud.

“Come on, let's sit by the fire.”

Lissa obliges her and they curl up in armchairs near the fire, talking quietly about their lives until people begin to surface. The common room is large enough that even when the majority of students have left their rooms and are sitting around waiting for curfew to lift, the room still feels spacious. Eventually, Merlin's portrait, hanging above the fireplace, stops snoring gently and he lifts his head.

“Good heavens! You're all here mighty early, might I say? Eager to better yourself, might I guess? Or just eager for breakfast?” he chortles to himself as he takes in the student body in the room. “I'd guess you're all trying to make a good impression, being as it's the start of the term and all! Yes, I should say curfew is nearly over now. Breakfast will be open any moment! You should all get your books together, ready for the fresh start to your new year!”

Yawning, he stands and stretches. Catching sight of Dru and Lissa near his portrait with some of the other first-years who have awoken early, he smiles broadly and waves. “Good morning, first-year students! Please remember the password: opheodrys vernalis! I cannot tell you it outside this room, as you know. And for those of you who will _inevitably_ forget- Cutwick, I am looking at you, yes- I will be here for you to call someone out to let you in! And should you need advice, I am always here to help. Now then! Breakfast and your new term awaits, off we pop!” And with that, he turns and stretches, disappearing off to his portrait outside the common room.

As one, the student body in the room rises to their feet and collectively heads for the door, though the first-years appear to be congregating around the window looking into the lake. Just as the last few older students filter out, Draco and his dorm come rushing out, shoving books in their bags and pulling their ties round their neck. Dru just sniggers at him and his cronies as they rush out.

“Wait, we're _not_ late?”

Dru, still sniggering, shakes her head. “No. Curfew's only just lifted.”

“GREGORY GOYLE!” Draco all but yells, swatting Goyle's arm. Dru can't help but think it's like trying to hit a house. She and Lissa go into the room to collect their bags, and as they do, Tracey Davis, Sophie Roper, Daphne Greengrass, Pansy and Millicent are all just straightening out the last of their uniforms and collecting their bags.

“Good morning, Dru,” Millicent smiles at her. “Sleep- is that a _snake_ on your bed?!” she cries horrified, as Dru strokes Lilith and lets her slide across her arm.

“That's a snake,” Dru confirms. She stoops to pick up her bag and then smiles at Lilith. “Her name is Lilith, she's not venomous, she's smart and she's absolutely beautiful,” she lists. “She's friendly too.”

“She's not?” Millicent looks relieved as she ties her tie and then stoops to pick up the bag she has. “Well, that's something. How did you persuade the teachers to let you bring a snake to school?!”

“I didn't,” Dru says.

“You snuck a snake past McGonagall? That woman has eyes like a hawk, or at least that's what my brother told me. Well done you.” Sophie seems suitably impressed with what seems to her like a minor achievement. She's one of the few half-bloods to have made it into the group, much to Dru's pleasure. She doesn't mind the muggleborns- Lissa in particular doesn't seem too bad, for example. But the half-bloods seem to be even more obsessed with heritage than the purebloods, bringing up their magical parent whenever they get even half a chance. The muggleborns she's seen so far have just accepted that something weird is happening to them and are getting on with it, and she much prefers that attitude.

The girls all seem to be readjusting their view of her now she's done something to prove herself by sneaking Lilith in. Dru finds herself hoping that they'll adjust their view of Lissa, too, as the girl seems just as much of a Slytherin as any of the pureblood students. She knows her Uncle will disapprove if she actively helps Lissa settle into the group, though, so she stops herself from thinking anything further about it and joins the rest of her dorm as they make their way out to the common room.

Once there, they're stopped by the prefects from the night before, both in robes and both rubbing sleep from their eyes lazily.

“Hi guys. We thought we'd give you the welcome talk now, get it over with. You won't be late for breakfast, I can promise you that.”

Dru looks around. All of the first-year Slytherins have been held back, it seems. She shrugs and shifts her bag on her shoulder. The prefects look at one another and then the dark-skinned girl begins to speak what sounds like a well rehearsed few words.

“Welcome to Slytherin House. Our emblem, as you're already well aware what with the crest on the fireplace and the like, is a snake. Our house corresponds to the element of water; fitting because of this,” she gestures to the window behind her. “We see the squid quite a lot. I remember when I was in my second year, the seventh years enchanted it to dance in front of the window for a full three hours. It tried to break the glass when they finally released it. Needless to say the glass is enchanted against that so it couldn't actually do it, but it was hilarious watching it try. We see tons of other creatures in the lake, too. You should spend a day just watching stuff go by sometime, it's great.”

The boy takes over speaking now. “You've heard rumours no doubt that this house is evil, but it's just a bunch of lies. We look out for our own, in Slytherin, no matter the year difference. As far as we're concerned, once you're in, you're in for good. Brothers and sisters in arms, so to speak. And we play to win, every time, because we care about the honour of our house and the traditions it has. The other houses are just sore losers at Quiddtich, for real.”

“Last few notes: the password to the Slytherin common room is changed a few times a term, every few weeks. The new password is displayed on the noticeboard, along with any other important notices. Your timetables are all pinned up there now, you should go collect them after this. Keep an eye on the noticeboard, it's useful. Oh, and don't let anyone from other houses into the common room. No outsiders have been here in over seven hundred years, and we're trying to keep it that way. That's all there really is for us to tell you. You already know, of course, that Merlin was a famous Slytherin- hence why his portraits sits both inside and out of the common room. Yeah, that's it. You can go to breakfast now. Thanks for listening,” the girl finishes.

The prefects leave to the Great Hall while the first-years collect their timetables. Dru doesn't bother checking her timetable as her stomach is now rumbling so loudly she's actually getting funny looks off those around her.

The Great Hall isn't as full as it was the night before as the first-year Slytherins bundle through the huge doors after the older years. Dru assumes students will filter in throughout the hour that they have to eat and pulls her timetable scroll from her bag as she and the other first-year Slytherins settle around their House table. It is twenty past seven, she realises as she watches the clock that hangs above the entrance for a moment, and breakfast is yet to begin. Looking around the Great Hall, Dru thinks the reason it starts after the curfew might be because the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors have common rooms high in the school building, as there are barely any of them sitting around their respective tables. Once everyone is settled- Draco sits again to her right, Lissa to her left- she looks at her timetable. It is Monday 2nd September, 1991, and she only has two lessons- Potions, with Professor Snape, and Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell. The rest of the day is free time, though she presumes she will be expected to do something productive. A small note at the bottom of her timetable reads as follows:

 

_Please be advised that the nightly curfew begins at 9pm and ends at 7am. Students caught out of their common rooms during these hours will be punished accordingly._

  


_Breakfast begins at 7:30am sharp and ends at 8:30am._

_Lunch begins at 12:30pm and ends at 2pm; students will be advised that different years finish for lunch at different times and should plan their lunch breaks accordingly._

_Dinner begins at 7:30pm and ends at 8:30pm._

  


_Lessons begin at 9am sharp._

 

She tucks the timetable away and turns to conversing with the others. As the clock hits 7:30am, the tables once again fill with food. This morning, there are endless boxes of cereal, stacks of fresh golden toast with butter, crispy sausages of every imaginable variety, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, hash browns, black pudding, and eggs in every possible way of cooking them. She asks the nearest plate of fried eggs for poached eggs and is promptly delivered three, much like Draco had been given a steak the night before. She picks up four sausages, three rashers of bacon, three fat slices of black pudding, two hash browns, four whole slices of toast (cut into two), a huge pile of mushrooms, tomatoes and then pours herself a large glass of apple juice. She downs half the apple juice in one and tucks in with gusto, glad for once she can eat to her heart's content without the appraisal of her Aunt. Draco to her right gets a glass of pumpkin juice and a slice of toast, asking one of the parading condiment tubs to give him some marmalade. He eats slowly, chewing each bite thoroughly. Blaise sits opposite Dru today, and Dru finds herself wondering while she eats what his plan is for sitting there today. She finds out as she mops up the juices from the tomatoes with a piece of toast.

“Good morning, Druella,” he nods politely.

“Blaise,” she says curtly, taking a drink from her juice. “How are you this morning? Settle into your dormitory well?”

“It's not quite as comfortable as what I've been used to at home, and it's nothing compared to the Villa, but it is still nice. The common room is breathtaking, don't you think?”

“I like it well enough. I miss the view out over the gardens of Malfoy Manor, but the view down into the Lake from the common room is alright. I thought I saw a merperson in the reeds further down the slope this morning when I first went in.”

“There are mermaids in the lake?” asks Lissa incredulously.

There is a beat of silence as the group around them debate whether to respond, but then Pansy rolls her eyes. “Wow, you can tell you're a muggle, Lissa. There's not just mermaids, there's mermen too. And they're not pretty like people imagine. My father saw one once.”

Lissa smiles at her briefly, thankful for the show of alliance, but then mumbles something about not realising things about the wizarding world before returning to her toast.

“Did you really see a merperson this morning, Dru?” asks Draco.

“I think so. Lissa and I woke up early and wanted to do something so we went out to the common room.”

“Did you see the merperson too, Lissa?” Blaise inquires over his cup of coffee.

Lissa looks up from the toast she is pushing round her plate. “I.. uh, I thought I saw something moving in the reeds when we first went into the common room but I just thought it must be a fish. All I saw was a tail, I think.”

“Ooh, maybe we'll get to see the squid!” says Daphne Greengrass excitedly. “My mother always told me such exciting stories about the squid.”

“And you believed they actually happened?” Pansy scoffs.

“Well... no... but... well, I'd just like to actually see the squid, okay?” she retorts defensively.

Just then, the owls appear seemingly from nowhere and fly to their respective owners to deliver mail. Most of the pure-blood children have letters from their parents, and she and Draco are no exception. Feather and Nib shoot down excitedly to greet their owners with scrolls tied to their legs. Draco's letter is a note from his father, and Dru has a more detailed letter wishing her well for her first day at school from Aunt 'Cissa. She smiles at it, pulls her ink and quill from her bag and writes a brief thank-you note on the back of the message before sending Nib on his way.

Dru realises with distaste that her lessons for the day happen to be shared with the Gryffindors. Draco seems to be equally as thrilled as they descend back into the dungeons to Snape's Potions classroom.

“Boneheads, the lot of them,” he mutters.

Lissa, who has fallen into step with Dru and Pansy, nods in agreement. “I've been here a day and I've already realised they'd leap headfirst into a fireplace to save a 'friend' of theirs even if they didn't know for certain said friend was in there. Idiots.”

Pansy sniggers with amusement as they enter the classroom and settle at seats. The Gryffindor students have naturally gravitated towards one another and sit collectively near the back of the classroom. The Slytherins are clustered together nearer the front and Snape's desk. Dru smiles despite herself as she hears the whole classroom setting up their tripods and cauldrons. As the class settles in and begins to talk, the classroom door bursts open. Professor Snape's imposing figure has the instant effect of silencing every pupil in the room. He begins to walk slowly through the students. Dru watches some of the Gryffindors physically cringe away from him- in particular, a bucktoothed, big eared boy she remembers because of the toad the night before. Longbottom.

She nudges Draco and nods in the general direction of Longbottom. “Gryffindors are all brave, apparently,” she whispers.

Draco chokes back laughter and successfully manages to pass it off as a cough as Snape's piercing glare falls on his shoulders. Dru pats him on the back rather convincingly as he looks on, eager for any excuse to thump her adopted brother. She knows she'll get hell for it later, but the opportunity is too good to pass up, and nothing he can do will be that bad. As Snape begins to question students 'at random', she tunes back into the lesson. He appears to be berating Harry Potter for being unable to answer correctly, and Dru wants to step in and remind Snape that Harry didn't actually grow up in the wizarding world- or know that magic existed- until very recently, so he can't really be expected to know the answer to all his questions. But Dru knows that to insult their Head of House to defend a Gryffindor- even if that Gryffindor is Harry Potter- is out of the question. Her social status in the house is currently just as precarious as Lissa's, because she has no ties to a familial line that proves her blood purity in the way her adopted brother has. Until some time has passed and her position in the group is secured and based off her achievements rather than her vague ties to the Malfoy purity, she knows better than to toe the line. Instead, she knuckles down to take notes, determined to make something of her grades this year.

The short day for the first-year students seems to be over in a flash, and before she knows it she's sitting at the lunch table. Her friends have decided to go find somewhere outside to sit and eat, but Dru elected to stay inside, and so she sits at a very empty Slytherin table groaning with food, picking at sandwiches, trying to decide what the best plan of action is to cement her social standing, as it's barely been a day and she's already annoyed at having to play the game so carefully. Draco can play the game with ease and he's already flaunting his power; being from family with the longest heritage in England means he has a whole lot more respect and therefore a whole lot more power. The only family name that comes close to challenging him is the Zabini name, but the loss of the family records hangs heavy over his name, especially as he isn't from a British wizarding family. And besides, for the time being, Blaise appears to be happy setting himself up to be Draco's right hand man, a colleague and co-conspirator. Crabbe and Goyle, bless them, Dru thinks with a faint smirk, are entirely unaware of the political games that have to be played within the elitist pureblood groups, but Draco has taken pity on them and took them under his wing. Dru knows it suits his style to have the burly boys shadowing him everywhere, and she doesn't blame him. He's smart enough politically and academic enough to get through school with some degree of success, but he's always been a waste of time in a fight and if he ever needs dirty work doing, he is always going to be better off using the buffoons to fight for him.

The afternoon she decides will be best spent walking round the upper floors of the castle, trying to get used to the moving staircases (and definitely not at all trying to locate the Gryffindor common room to see that Potter boy again, seeing as all she knows is that it's... up, somewhere). Traversing the corridors turns out to be more difficult than anticipated. The stairs like to start moving just as you're about to step on them, and many of them don't follow any sense of rhythm or pattern at all. Then there are the doors – some that only open when asked the correct way, or tickled in the right place and some that are walls that are just pretending, much to Dru's frustration. And trying to use the pictures as a guide to help you work out where you are is pointless, because they spend so much time in other people's portraits that some of them have genuinely forgotten the way back to their own portraits. She spends the whole afternoon and most of the evening exploring, and when she eventually finds her way back to the Great Hall, her friends appear at the top of the stairs to the Entrance Hall. She waits for them, and then heads into the room with them to eat.

Dinner passes quickly and before Dru knows it, she's joining the last of the students who roll in towards the Slytherin common room just before curfew. She and Pansy are the last in the trailing body, and they find themselves dawdling, neither willing to shut themselves back in their common room quite yet. Dru stops by a long dark corridor and stoops to scratch at her ankle while Pansy stands by her, yawning. As Dru stands back up, Pansy shrieks horrifically at the top of her lungs and draws her wand, though she doesn't raise her wand arm. The few students who are close enough still to run back to help do, and they find the girls staring down the corridor. Dru has her wand drawn out of instinct, looking carefully down the dark space, and Pansy is shaking, hiding behind her.

“What happened?” asks a boy who Dru thinks might be Cutwick.

“There was- there was something down there! I saw its face! It didn't look like anything I've seen here or at home!”

Cutwick and the two older boys who have come back to help her, Flint and Higgs, pull their wands. Dru realises that the prefects had been right when they had explained that Slytherins look out for their own, and she is glad to see them there.

“Is anything there?” asks Higgs. He sends a ball of light down the corridor, but there's nothing there. It hits the far wall and peters out. Dru sees it illuminate a narrow spiral staircase, and just as it's about to fade away completely, she sees a pair of too-wide eyes staring soullessly at her. She freezes to the spot and begins to shiver. Whatever those eyes belong to, she has no desire to get any closer.

“Girls, get down the corridor. NOW,” says Flint. Higgs shoves all of them down the corridor, and then follows them. All five of them walk backwards with their wands drawn for a good long distance, and Dru fights the urge to sprint away the whole time. The... _thing_ , whatever it had been, had been looking at her. As they round the corner into the reading room and entrance to their common room, all five of them relax a little, though the two oldest boys are still wary. Merlin sits in his chair, awaiting their arrival.

“Good evening, Cutwick, Higgs, Flint, and the first-years! I will learn your names soon,” he tells them, standing. “You are the last ones in tonight! Wait- is something wrong?” he asks as he takes in their appearances.

Pansy is sobbing openly, her wand in her hand but her wand arm hanging limply by her side. She is shaking. Dru isn't much better off, shaking like her friend, but her wand is drawn and she's turned to face the only entrance there is. She has no idea of any defensive spells or any idea how to duel at all, for that matter, but she feels better being prepared. Cutwick has his wand out, but has his arms around the girls to reassure them. It is Flint and Higgs who have dropped into defensive stances, wands trained on the corridor and dark stares fixed in place.

“Merlin, one of the... _things_... it's got out of the lower levels. The sobbing first year saw it. We saw its eyes. We sent a light down the corridor. We need Professor Snape and the Baron, _now,_ ” Cutwick says to him. “Girls, do... do you remember the password? The common room is enchanted against those things. They can't get you in there.”

“Op... opheodrys vernalis,” hiccups Pansy after a moment.

Merlin stands guard and looks down the corridor warily as the stone door unseals itself and opens. His voice is more serious than his usual jolly tone. “Ladies and gentlemen, the common room is open. If you would kindly take the girls in, Cutwick. Higgs, Flint, it is safe to go in now. The girls are safe. You did your duty to your house honourably, now you can get yourselves to safety. I will see to fetching the Baron and Severus.”

In the common room, there are a fair amount of students still up. Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Lissa and Blaise are the first faces she recognises seated near the fire, though there are others sitting with them. Draco shoots to his feet when he sees Pansy crying.

“What happened? Who's hurt you? Are you okay?”

Dru nods shakily and collapses onto the loveseat beside him. Lissa is sat on the floor and Blaise has procured a beanbag from somewhere else in the room, but he graciously offers the seat to Pansy as she follows Dru over to their first-year friends. Elsewhere in the room, the older students are filling in the other years as to what has happened.

“I stopped on my way back to the common room with Pansy to scratch my foot at the end of one of those corridors that the Prefects warned us not to go down. The ones that lead to lower levels of the dungeons, yeah,” she says in response to Blaise's questioning look. Crabbe and Goyle look suitably confused- their normal expressions, Dru knows- but Draco looks the most worried.

“Did something happen? Did you go down there, Dru?” asks Daphne, who is also sitting with the group.

“No, but as I was bent down to scratch my foot, Pansy saw something and shrieked. I thought she was making it up at first to scare me, but she was genuinely terrified so I got my wand out-”

“But you don't know _any_ defensive spells, Dru-” chimes in Draco oh so helpfully-

“Shut it, Draco, I don't care, I had to do something- and I was looking down the corridor when three older boys came back round the corridor because they heard Pansy scream and her crying, and then one of them sent a light down the corridor and it went right the way down the corridor to where the stairs start- and those corridors are long- and there was nothing, but then out of nowhere as the light was fading I saw these... these _eyes_ , and they were watching us. A ghost or something from down there, one of the weird ones the Prefects mentioned. The older boys pushed us down the corridor, then got us all into the common room. Apparently the Baron and Sev- I mean, Snape, are on the way to sort something out.”

“They can't get into the common room, can they?”

“No, Daphne. The common room will be protected against that kind of stuff,” Blaise assured her. “Right, Dru?”

“Merlin said the common room is safe before we came in.”

“The thing wasn't at the end of the corridor, Dru. It wasn't down by the stairs.” Pansy speaks up for the first time as the group lapse into a wary silence. “It was leaning right over you.”

Dru feels her blood run cold at Pansy's words. “It was _what?_

“It was leaning right over you,” she repeats in a whisper. “And I don't think it was a ghost.”

Just at that point, Severus sweeps into the room. The Bloody Baron follows just behind him, and two steps behind him are Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall. They are all wearing similar expressions of concern.

“Who were the students involved in the incident with the lower level entity just now?” asks Snape. Dru stands, as do the three older boys. Pansy gulps and stands too.

“Come here. We need to know exactly what happened.”

The five return towards the entrance of the common room and begin to explain what happened over again. The entire common room is deathly silent as they do. Merlin, returned to his portrait above the fireplace, verifies what he saw with the staff members as the others finish explaining their parts of the story.

“Misters Cutwick, Higgs and Flint, you looked out for your fellow students and performed admirably without the presence of a staff member in protecting the safety of the younger years. Ten points each to Slytherin,” says Dumbledore. “Misses Parkinson and Gaunt, do you believe you could show us back to the particular corridor where this incident happened?”

Dru nods. “I'm fairly certain I'm never going to be able to forget where it happened, Professor,” she says. She is rewarded with a warm chuckle from Professor McGonagall, and even Snape smiles to himself. Dumbledore's face remains unreadable. “Pansy will be able to tell you where it was stood over me, if you want to know, right Pansy?”

The corridor is not empty when they return. When Professor Snape shoots a light down the corridor, it illuminates a vile creature. Stooped over and warped in the most unbelievable fashion, it stands about three and a half feet tall. Its arms are long, claw-like hands almost scraping the ground. Its twisted fingernails are overly long, dark with dirt and dripping with what looks like blood. Dru shivers as she contemplates what that means. Its hair is wispy and thin, only a few greasy strands left dangling around its pale and ashen face as it turns to face them with very familiar eyes and a despicable grin. Pansy starts to tremble again and Professor McGonagall puts both girls behind her and draws her wand, though the creature is by far more interested in the light above it at first. As it spots Dru, it takes a few steps towards her and its eyebrows begin to raise. It begins to laugh in the wandlight Professor Snape keeps floating above it, a harsh, grating noise that forces both Dru and Pansy to put their hands over their ears. The laughter becomes more and more hysterical until Professor Dumbledore, who had been scrutinising the creature intently, appears to grow tired of the creature's painful cackles. With a flick of his wand, he sends the creature wailing down the stairs and back into the depths. The top of the staircase is then sealed with a golden wall and boarded up with Conjured wooden planks.

“Albus, this is getting ridiculous,” worries Professor McGonagall aloud. “It was actually standing over one of our students. Who knows what it would have done if she was alone? We've lost students before, but only when they ventured down there. To see them leaving like this...”

“I shall speak to Peeves, good lady, and find out what infernal chaos those poltergeists below are causing that allows them to venture beyond the tops of the staircases. Whatever it is, it appears to be weak still- the creature seemed unwilling to leave the corridor. The answer might well be as simple as adding more lights to the dungeon corridors. Peeves will surely know.” The Baron nods to himself. “If need be, I can enter the lower levels and locate the source of this problem, and aid you in removing it.”

Professor Dumbledore nods thoughtfully. “Speaking to Peeves will probably enlighten us far further than speaking to the poltergeists down below. Peeves, at least, retains some sense of sanity. Let that be your first course of action, Baron. For now, Severus, please ensure that none of your House are allowed to leave beyond the reading room without the company of at least one other student. This is the entrance to the deepest portions of the dungeons, if memory serves, and boarding it up may halt the progression of whatever is causing them to leave their haunting grounds, but it is better to be safe than sorry.”

“I will look into potentially sealing off all entrances to the lower dungeons, Albus,” McGonagall says finally, her arms still curled protectively around Pansy and Dru. “If you were right about what is down there, and this is a result of it... we might have to move the Slytherin common room.”

“Unthinkable,” says Snape. “The Slytherin common room has been here since the Founders built the school. We are not moving it simply because some of the more twisted poltergeists have found another way to escape their confinement in the lower levels. This has happened before, in the early days. The Founders stopped it then. We will stop it now.”

The whole group falls silent. Professor Dumbledore's cold gaze rests very firmly on Dru and she looks to the floor. If he's blaming her for the whole thing, she thinks, why doesn't he just say so and punish her?

“Miss Gaunt and Miss Parkinson, come this way,” says the Baron. “I will return the girls to their dormitory. Should anything else appear, I have the power to dissuade most of the poltergeists for long enough that they can run. I bid you all farewell and goodnight, Professors.”

“Goodnight, Professors,” Pansy squeaks as she turns to follow the Baron.

“Goodnight, Professors,” Dru echoes.

“Goodnight,” Snape replies as they head away down the corridor. McGonagall and Dumbledore are still talking quietly between themselves.

The walk back to their common room is silent and Dru can't help but think she can hear echoes of screaming from the corridors they pass that lead to old, broken staircases.

That night, in bed, she leaves her curtains open again and watches the patterns of the water on the floor. She hears Pansy sobbing behind her curtains, but knows better than to go to her. Lissa and Daphne are the most concerned for the pair of them, and while they don't disturb Pansy, they leave a glass of water and a chocolate frog on her bedside table. They watch Dru warily, but she just stares at the floor until she finally gets tired enough to sleep. Throughout the night, her dreams are watched by a pair of cold, heartless eyes, staring at her.


	6. Parseltongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello there ladies and gentlemen and variations thereupon! Sorry for no chapter in a while- we've been busy! Laura works (lots) and Liss (me) has been off at a festival! Leeds Fest has been amazing and I've recently turned 19 so I've been busy. Hope you guys are all doing well! Have a lovely lovely day/evening, wherever you are! Updates will probably slow down till about halfway through September now while Laura and I sort out moving back to uni. 
> 
> Obligatory reminder: we do not own Harry Potter. We steal and take the good bits to warp.  
> -Liss x

A few days in to the term, Dru enters the common room to find a crowd of first-years gazing up at a new notice. It's a reminder that the Flying Lessons begin at half past three that day, and contains the information that Slytherins will be attending their lessons with the Gryffindors, which is important, if not unexpected news. When she's read the notice, she drifts from the group excitedly clamouring around the board to where Draco is sitting with the ever present Crabbe and Goyle, as well as Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini and a couple of the girls from her dorm. She flops down on one of the loveseats next to Blaise and Pansy. The group of friends she has succeeded in making over the past few days- arguably the most influential and powerful new Slytherins, although the pure-blooded upper years hold more respect than they do- have already begun a habit of gravitating naturally towards the fire, which Dru is pleased about. She likes the warmth.

As she sits, the whole group acknowledges her arrival with smiles and nods in her direction. She makes sure to return the favour, beaming at them all warmly. The beginnings of the permanent bonds of friendship are beginning to blossom already, so she needs to keep all the respect she's gained and get along with those she's looking to stick around with. Already, she's managed to gather herself enough respect to be able to challenge Draco informally without much in the way of repercussion. She knows mostly it's because the whole house knows they've grown up together and will bicker like siblings, but it's still a development she can be proud of. She's more proud of Lissa, though, she thinks as the girl checks the notice and then heads over to the group by the fire confidently. Lissa- a muggleborn witch, no less- has somehow managed to claw her way into the most elite group of first-year Slytherins. Dru didn't think she'd ever get along with a muggleborn, after what her Uncle Lucius had told her growing up, but she actually likes Lissa and wants to stay friends with her, and she suspects most of the others do, too.

Their group of friends holds the most power, and some of the more powerful family names even have more power than many of the older years; her brother, Pansy and Blaise are just a few of the names who hold more power than many of the second and third-years. Somehow, Lissa has clawed her way into the group. Dru knows how hard she's working to earn it, too. She's seen her reading up on class topics before they cover them, just so she can get answers correct in class. She's also somehow managed to one-up several of the half-blood students who challenge for 'membership' of their close-knit little group. Sophie Roper, who shares their dorm, is one of them. Dru realises the reason Lissa has done so well in earning herself a place of pride within the house is that she knows precisely when she can challenge others for respect and when she needs to stay out of the way. As if to prove her point, Lissa arrives at their group and sits on the floor closest to the fire. She returns the smiles of welcome the group sends her way, but decides to listen in to the topic of conversation before speaking. Dru follows suit.

“Flying with the Gryffindors! Excellent! I can't wait to see Potter fail in front of everyone when he doesn't have the mudblood or the Weasel there to back him up,” Draco is saying. Theo chuckles.

‘Yeah,’ Goyle guffaws mindlessly.

Dru wants to defend him- after all, she's sure that there are others in the group who won't know how to fly properly, pure-blooded or not. Lissa frowns at Draco's words, but doesn't say anything. Blaise has taken to Lissa like none of the rest of the group has since she put the Roper girl in her place; she has already begun to annoy him with her constant attempts to flirt with him. He notices her unease and overrides Goyle's halfwitted laughter to reassure her.

“I wouldn't worry too much about looking impressive out there, Lissa. The sorry excuses for brooms that this school dishes out to first-years during the mandatory flying lessons will more than provide an excuse if you happen to struggle with anything. And you have us on your side if something goes wrong and anyone decides to try knocking you out of our group. You're one of us now you managed to get rid of that Roper girl. She wasn't doing herself any favours by trying to flirt with me, telling me she likes me. I've been trying to ditch her for years, my mother is a business associate of her father, and she's been chasing me all that time.”

Dru knows that's a big admission of allegiance from Blaise. He's just admitted to genuinely liking Lissa and respecting her, and Dru knows that regardless of blood purity, in Slytherin house, if you can earn someone's friendship, you're set. Not only has Lissa just confirmed she's earned herself a permanent place in the group, she's suddenly just as secure as Dru is herself.

Lissa grins. “Thanks, Blaise. That means a lot. I'm glad I managed to put her in her place, to be honest. We've been here three nights and I was already getting annoyed with the way she's been acting. I took the first opportunity I was given to hex her.”

“I'm more impressed you knew the hex, Lissa,” Daphne says. “I didn't know there even _was_ a hex that could make someone's face erupt in spots like that.”

“That's because you don't know much, Daphne darling,” Pansy supplies with a genuine smile, “unless it is about the best hair and make-up tips.”

Daphne giggles. “That is true. I'm not really good at anything else. Not even Quidditch, though I wish I was. My mother's a big fan, and she's expecting me to go in for the house team. But I don't think I'll be good enough. I've been flying since I was six, and I'm still rubbish.”

“I'll train with you next year, if you like. I've been flying for years and I'm not too bad,” Dru offers.

“Really?” she chirrups excitedly.

“Yeah, I don't see why not. I'm not a fan of Quidditch, but I do like flying. And besides, Draco needed _someone_ to keep him occupied as a child.”

The others laugh. Draco laughs a bit, but he does scowl at her petulantly. Pansy rests her hand on his lightly as she chuckles.

“Relax, Draco. She's not being mean, she's being funny.”

Draco's face eventually relaxes into a more neutral expression. Dru thinks that's a good enough payback for him on behalf of Lissa, to say the least. Lissa nods a silent thanks at her and the matter is considered closed as Merlin's portrait wakes up to inform them all that curfew has lifted.

  
  


The day passes quickly; the two lessons they do have don't seem to last anywhere near long enough. Dru doesn't think she'll enjoy Herbology, but she's certain it will at least be more interesting than the horrific History of Magic class she sat through the day before. At the lunch table, Pansy agrees to help Lissa look through her family tree, to try and locate the last wizard in her family, and Dru decides to go with them to their dorm to spread the papers across the large floor and read through names.

Before they know it, three pm rolls around, and the three of them head down to the grounds designated as the 'classroom' for their first flying lesson. Dru is calm and collected; she's been flying for years with her adopted brother, so she knows the ropes pretty well. Lissa is understandably nervous, though Blaise's confirmation of their friendship has reassured her that not everything rides on being able to fly. Pansy is also worried, as she admits she hasn't flown much before. As the line up on the left of the yellow-eyed professor with the other Slytherins, Dru takes a moment to observe the Gryffindors. She recognises the toad boy, Longbottom, and then the Weasel with his obnoxiously bright hair. Harry Potter stands right by him, and at the other side of him is the mudblood girl who's been keeping up with her in classes; Granger, Dru thinks her name is. She holds her head high and stares blankly forward- stupid Gryffs, all so obsessed with bravery.

The day is gloriously clear, Dru notices thankfully. While she wasn't lying about having some experience flying, Aunt 'Cissa and Uncle Lucius never let her and Draco fly in even the slightest bit of bad weather. There is barely a cloud in the sky, but there is still a very familiar winter bite to the air, even in the sunlight. Their breath is still misting, despite the afternoon sunshine, and Dru is thankful for her House gloves and scarf. As the last of the students assemble around them, the Professor in flying robes demands silence and introduces herself as Madam Hooch.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick! Come on, hurry up,” she barks.

Dru lines up next to a broom, as does everyone around her. She's actually managed to pick an okay-ish looking one, though its twigs are a little dishevelled. It has nothing on her sleek, tidy Nimbus 1700 at home.

“Stick your right hand over your broom and say 'up'!”

“UP!” cry the students in unison.

It takes Dru three turns, but the broom flies relatively quickly into he grasp. She holds it tightly, feeling prouder than she's willing to admit. She has a look around to see how the other students are doing, and just as she looks up she sees Weasley's broom thump him solidly in the nose. Harry begins laughing, and the redhead mutters at him to shut up. Once everyone finally has their brooms in their grip Madam Hooch begins to wander around, having a look at the way students are mounting their brooms. She giggles to herself when she tells Draco he's been sitting on the broom wrong for years, but simply moves Dru's hands slightly further up the broom- serves him right, the stupid show-off. The way she's sitting on the broom is too uncomfortable for her small arms to reach properly, so she slides her hands back down when Madam Hooch isn't looking. When she looks over again, her yellow eyes are piercing, but she's smirking a little.

“When I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle- three, two-”

Suddenly, before the whistle has even reached Hooch's lips, Longbottom's broom flies rapidly into the air. The students throw their heads back as they watch him zoom higher and higher, eyes wide with shock.

“Come back, boy!” cries Hooch, but Longbottom has no control of his brromstick and he's going far too fast. He's up twelve feet, twenty feet- Dru can see how terrified he looks, and even though she's exasperated by the clumsy loser she almost feels compelled to fly after him, reputation be damned, but before she's even thought about it long enough to kick off the ground his grasp slips and-

Dru can't even look as Longbottom falls the twenty five feet he's shot in the air. The _THUD_ that follows and the audible crack of something breaking makes her wince, and when she looks around at the other Slytherins cautiously, she's pleased to see that all of them- even her pig of a brother- are looking suitably shocked and uncomfortable. All of them stand, staring at Longbottom, with no idea what to do. He lies, face down in grass, groaning in pain, as his unruly broomstick hits the floor and snaps upon impact. Hooch observes for a single second longer and then rushes over to him, inspecting his wrist. She speaks quietly to him and then turns to the class.

“None of you is to move whilst I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear,” she says to Longbottom. His face is streaked with tears as he heads off with Hooch's arm around him.

The moment they are out of earshot, Draco bursts out laughing. The others around them join in, though it's more for the sake of appearances than anything else. Some of them- Tracey and Lissa as well as Dru herself- are far slower on the uptake of laughter. Dru and Liss don't laugh at all.

“Did you see his face? The great lump!”

“Oh, shut up, Malfoy,” a darker skinned girl snaps at him.

“Sticking up for Longbottom?” Pansy snorts. “Never thought _you'd_ like fat little cry-babies, Patil.”

“Look!” Draco stoops and picks up a glass ball that has rolled to his feet. “It's that stupid thing Longbottom's Gran sent him!”

“That would be a Remembrall, Draco,” Dru tells him quietly.

“Give that here, Malfoy,” Harry says quietly.

Everyone turns to look at him. Draco throws it in the air, contemplating his next move carefully. After a few seconds he grins nastily at him.

“I think I'll leave it here somewhere for Longbottom to collect. How about- up a tree?”

“Give it _here_!” Harry cries. Draco just hops on his broomstick and kicks off from the ground, hovering a few feet in the air.

“Come and get it, Potter!”

Granger looks horrified. “ _NO_! Madam Hooch told us not to move- you'll get us all into trouble!”

Harry ignores her and mounts his own broom. To say he's never flown, he's actually _very_ good, Dru thinks, watching him zip after her obnoxious brother. Their classmates are screaming in fear and admiration. They fly too high for Dru and the others to see or hear what they're saying, but after a brief exchange of words Harry launches himself at Draco in the air and Dru covers her eyes, not wanting to see either of them repeat Longbottom's actions and break something. Luckily, Draco dodges out of the way. She knows this is just a show for the other Slytherins; as awful as he's being, she doesn't want to see him hurt. Harry says something else, and she watches Draco's face turn beet red, and then Draco yells defensively something that they can all hear:

“Catch it if you can, then!”

Draco sits back on his broom lazily, stretches his arm out and launches the Remembrall as far as he can throw. It rises for a brief moment, and then gravity takes hold of the ball and drags it back down towards the floor. Harry follows it without a second thought, and Dru's heart is in her throat as she watches the _bloody idiot_ shoot straight towards the floor, racing faster than she's ever dared on her broom, so sure she's going to watch him fall, or hit the floor and break his neck and kill himself- but about a foot from the floor, his hand finds the Remembrall and he pulls up, straightening his broom. He topples onto the grass, the glass ball tightly clutched in his fist.

“HARRY POTTER!”

Dru cringes for Harry as a very familiar voice fills the field. Professor McGonagall has a look on her face that Dru hasn't ever seen before as she rushes over the fields towards them.

“ _Never_ \- in my time at Hogwarts- how _dare_ you- might have broken your neck-”

“It wasn't his fault, Professor-”

“Miss Gaunt, your opinion is not necessary here.”

“But Malfoy-” Ron Weasley tries to supply.

“That's _enough_ , Mr Weasley! Potter, follow me. Now.”

Harry turns to go with Professor McGonagall and Dru is certain that he's lost his place at Hogwarts. He looks terrified as he leaves. While the other students watch him go blankly, Dru turns to her brother. His proud smirk is quickly wiped off his face as he sees his murderous glare. She marches over to him.

“You absolute _PRAT_!” she shrieks at him. The tiny part of her mind that isn't completely seething knows she'll have to work hard to recover herself for this slip up, especially because she's taking the side of a Gryff, but she's too angry to care. Looking around for something to use as a weapon, she realises Longbottom's broken broom is at her feet, and she stoops to grab the broken end. Gripping it like a club, she looks up to see Draco has read into her movements and is already kicking off the ground on his broom, fleeing from her. She grabs the broom from Weasley's hands and follows him, swinging the makeshift club at him as she chases him. Draco is yelling curses at her, begging her to stop, and calling for Crabbe and Goyle- but even they have enough sense to remember that Dru is dangerous when she's angry, and stay firmly on the floor. Dru grins with a sick sense of glee when she swings viciously for Draco and sees the splintered broom end hit his arm hard.

From the other end of the field, McGonagall turns to face the noise coming from the students awaiting Hooch's return. “Well, it seems that Miss Gaunt would make an excellent beater,” she muses.

Harry turns, confused by her words. Despite his anxieties, he cannot help but laugh as he watches Dru chase Draco around the field, swinging Neville's half-broken broomstick at him.

*

Draco ends up in the infirmary to remove the splinters from the broomstick from his arms, legs and back, and for her troubles Dru is given a month-long detention with Snape. Snape makes it perfectly clear thirty seconds through the door of his office in the dungeons that she should _technically_ have been expelled from Hogwarts. It's amazing what a parent on the Board of Governors will do for you, she thinks to herself grumpily. Too much shame for the Malfoys to have a child expelled? Why did they even bother raising her then? And, she thinks to herself for the millionth time, _what about Pavo_?

Two days of detention pass this way, but thankfully the other detentions have eased a little in their harshness. Snape seems to understand Draco and Dru's relationship better than Lucius, and he's just allowed her to sit and work on any homework she's been set the rest of the time she's been going to see him. However, Lucius, clearly displeased with how lightly Dru managed to get off, takes it upon himself to write a howler to Dru. Well, she scowls, it was at least loosely to Dru. He bellows some stuff about family honour and how 'she all of people should learn to love the Malfoy name more than most' to her. Then the howler turns to Draco, and that's when Dru really loses it, though she doesn't outwardly show it. He yells at Draco for the entirety of breakfast- the yelling goes on so long that the students actually return to their own conversations. The only reason the howler shuts up in the end is because Professor Snape burns it, calmly telling Draco that if the yelling was going to follow him round the school the entire day, he would attract the attention of Peeves- and nobody really _wants_ to attract Peeves' attention. The last words Dru hears from the howler before it falls to ash are: “- sickening, being beaten up by a girl-” and she almost punches the doors to the Great Hall as she leaves. She can take being yelled at, but the second Lucius turns on Draco, especially if it's because of something she's done, she completely loses it. When Weasley attempts to poke fun at Draco because of it as they leave the Great Hall together, she turns to him and hexes him into the infirmary for a week. Part of her feels bad that she's hexed him, not someone like Terry Boot, for teasing Draco. Ron Weasley is after all one of the nicer Weasley sprogs. But she earns back all her favour with the group by doing it, and Harry Potter even grins at her in the corridor later that day. And nobody else mentions the letter to Draco, not even Crabbe or Goyle.

After the traumatic first-year flying lesson begins to wear off and Dru is once again actually allowed free time, she realises Hallowe'en is fast approaching. What shocks her more than losing a month of free-time to Snape's Homework Club is how comfortable she finds being at Hogwarts all of a sudden. She's no longer struggling with homework- the structure of her essays is almost second-nature now, she doesn't get lost on the way to her lessons (unless of course the staircases are being _particularly_ petulant that day) and she's finally managed to build a respectable reputation for herself with the Slytherin elites, and she knows that from here on out, she's pretty much set. She wonders if losing her temper and hexing anyone who frustrates her is responsible for her place in the group. She would never hex another Slytherin- she has taken to heart the words 'brothers and sisters in arms' from the welcome speech the Prefects gave them all, but most of them respect her enough now not to irritate her too much. Snape has all but given up scolding her for hexing other students; she doesn't tend to hex people without good reason. Secretly, she thinks he's pretty fond of her- he hates the majority of students, so she thinks he finds her hexes amusing. He even admitted he enjoyed seeing the effects of her bat-bogey hex on Weasley after the howler incident.

Now, though she's seeing a lot less of Snape and she's got some more time to think about whatever she pleases. She's staring blankly at her robes one morning once she's awoken, wondering what to do for the day, when her eyes suddenly pick out the snake on her house emblem. The sight of it sets her wondering for the first time in months exactly why her Uncle was being such a pig about her being a Parselmouth. She can't believe she's forgotten- it must have slipped her mind in the chaos of settling into Hogwarts and dealing with her month-long detention with Snape. But Merlin knows she's wasted enough time already; she could have discovered what it means by now! She climbs from bed, dresses as quietly as possibly so as not to disturb the other girls and then slips across to the first-year boys' dorm. Her little fist thumps the door three times. The door seems to huff at her sulkily, and then a sleepy voice pipes up from inside.

“Mmf? Who'sit?” says someone from inside. Theo, she thinks.

“It's Dru. Wake Draco up.”

There's a few moments of mumbled speech and scuffling, and then the distinct noise of slippers crossing the stone flags. After a moment the door opens and Draco stands there in his black silk pyjamas, wrapped in a green dressing gown. He glares at her through lidded eyes.

“It's Saturday morning, Druella. What in Merlin's name is so important?”

“Get dressed. We're going to the library.”

“You've got to be joking. It's _Saturday_.”

“Yes, brother mine. I know it's Saturday. But we have work to do. Get dressed and meet me in the common room in two minutes or I'll barge back in here and drag you out.”

Draco grimaces and nods, letting Dru retire to the common room to wait. After a few minutes of sitting by the fire, Draco arrives. He's wearing comfortable black leather shoes, smart-casual black suit trousers, a grey shirt and a Slytherin jumper. His hair is combed perfectly into place. Dru knows how meticulous he is about his appearance outside the common room.

“I'm impressed. You've never got dressed that quickly before.”

“I picked my clothes out last night for today.”

“Let's go.”

“Any particular reason you're leading me up to the library?”

Dru says nothing the entire way there, which irritates Draco highly. As they push the doors to the library open, Pince perks up in her seat and her cheeks turn a little pink; she must have been sleeping.

“Excuse me,” Dru says, sickeningly sweet. “We-”

“You-” corrects Draco.

“ _We_ ,” insists Dru, “were wondering if you have anything on Parselmouths?”

“Over there,” Pince says coolly, eyeing Draco's Slytherin jumper. “No funny business.”

As they head towards the aisle in question, Draco frowns. “Really, I'm starting to think everyone around here believes we're evil.”

“You don't exactly do us any favours,” she mumbles to herself as they enter the aisle. Unluckily for her, Draco hears her and scowls in her general direction as he begins to look at book titles.

“Right,” says Dru quietly. “Anything that looks like it could be useful. Anything snake-like.”

“Yes _Mother_ ,” drawls Draco, looking sulky. Still, he turns to the bookshelves and begins trawling through the titles, looking for anything interesting.

Eventually, Dru finds four books that look like they could potentially be useful. Draco finds six. They take them over to a reading nook and spread them out under the window; above the table floats a sign saying ' _Quiet Please!_ '. The morning sun filters through the window and onto the books, and Dru watches the dust motes dance in the glow as she settles into the comfortable chair to look through the books. She grins to herself. The musky scent of books and paper is a wonderful thing to be around in the mornings.

Dru sets to with gusto- she's missed reading for pleasure, reading simply for the benefit of knowing the contents of a book. Draco looks a little more reluctant, but he knows that this is important to her, so he eventually settles down looking for information. They find out plenty about snakes, but very little concrete information about parselmouths. Dru isn't satisfied, knowing so little, so she keeps reading. The seventh book is the one that finally holds some answers, though Dru is infuriated at how short the only interesting paragraph is;

  
  


_Paracelsus' Discussion on the Snake Language_

_This language, named Parseltongue since the dawn of Witches and Warlocks, is described by those who do not have the Talent to speak it as a series of hisses. Those who can speak it who are willing to discuss it claim it sounds the same as their mother tongue. I have concluded that as there are only a few Magical families who are able to speak to snakes at all, the Parselmouth ability is more a magical one than a language at all. Usually a speaker requires a snake-based creature to speak Parseltongue, but the more proficient speakers are able to use it at will. The most proficient speakers of Parseltongue are said to be those who are descended from the great Founder of Hogwarts, Salazar Slytherin, though Scholars know this to be legend as there is no proof that Salazar Slytherin has descendants._

  
  


“Draco, look!”

Draco reads the short paragraph and then looks back up at her wide-eyed. “So... you inherited it?”

“I must have,” she says quietly, gazing down at the page without really taking it in. “I don't actually know much about my family. We need to do some more digging, Draco. If Aunt 'Cissa and Uncle Lucius won't tell me about my family then I want to find out for myself.”

“But...” Draco looks troubled, as if he's thinking about something. “Dru, maybe that's not a good idea.”

Dru's eyes narrow and she looks over at her adopted brother. “What do you mean, Draco?”

“I just mean maybe Mother and Father aren't telling you for a good reason.”

“What _possible_ reason could there be that would mean them not telling me is _better_ than never knowing my family and having no proof of my blood ties? Do you know something I don't?”

Draco shakes his head hurriedly. “No, no! I don't know anything-”

“SHHHHHHHH,” interrupts Madam Pince from the desk, putting a finger to her lips and glowering at the pair of them.

“-honestly Dru,” Draco continues in a quieter tone. “I don't know anything about your parents that you don't.”

“I think I deserve to know who my mum and dad are, Draco.”

“You know your mother, though.”

“Oh. So knowing my mother is mental and never getting to meet her. That makes it all okay, does it? I know nothing about my family or my blood purity. This is _important_ , Draco.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” Dru hisses, losing her temper. “Besides, what would you know? You grew up with a family, knowing you were loved. I've _never_ had that.”

“Oh yeah, because my Father's _so_ wonderful, especially now Pavo isn't-”

“Do you know what, Draco, get lost.”

He turns without a word and leaves, letting her glare darkly at his back as he returns to the common room. However right he might be, she feels like she _has_ to start finding out about her heritage. And she knows she was being harsh- it's hardly like his family are the most wonderful people on the planet, after all- but she really does feel like a fraud without a claim to the blood purity the Gaunt name implies. She collects the books and carries them back towards the aisle they were from, trying not to be too rough with them. Despite her bad mood, she has no real desire to irritate the librarian.

As she skulks along the aisle, putting back all the books she has managed to carry, she bumps into none other than pretty-eyed Potter. He looks genuinely surprised to see her, and he shuffles the stack of newspapers in his hands.

“Hi, Dru.”

“Potter,” she snarls at him. He blinks in surprise and looks down at the newspapers awkwardly. He looks so little and pathetic that Dru rolls her eyes and puts the books she's yet to return on the table by the shelf. She runs a hand through her curls and closes her eyes. “Sorry. Hi.”

“Uh, hi. What are you doing here?”

“Baking a cake,” she says dryly, looking at him and raising a thin eyebrow. “What does it look like I'm doing to you?”

“Snake books,” he grins. “Taking the Slytherin thing a little bit too seriously?”

Dru rolls her eyes as she slides another one of the books back into its place. “Just researching, Potter. It's nothing to worry yourself over. Anyway, what's with all the newspapers?”

“Just researching, Gaunt. It's nothing to worry yourself over.”

“Touché,” she says. “Look, I've got a pet snake, if you must know. I was interested in reading more about them. There... aren't many books on snakes at Malfoy Manor.”

It's not entirely the truth, but nothing she's told him is an outright lie, so she can't really feel bad. Harry nods thoughtfully.

“Someone broke into Gringotts,” he says in explanation of his own presence in the library, nodding at the newspapers. “I'm interested.”

“Oh, I heard about that. I think the whole wizarding world has, to be honest. Surprising, but not exactly _interesting_.”

“I have my reasons.”

Dru stops and leans against the bookshelf. She watches him curiously; he looks no different than usual, with his stupid glasses sitting slightly askew on his face and his hair looking just as tame as her own; that is to say, not at all. She can't help but think he looks like such a _boy_. Why is he so interesting? She was expecting Harry to be much more... bland, than he is. Considering he grew up in the muggle world, he's settled in well. She tries to put herself in his shoes and can't possibly imagine it.

“What's Gryffindor like?”

She can't bring herself to ask about his family; it's a sore point for her at the minute, especially carrying the books she's been using to research her own heritage. She looks back over at him. He's staring at her with a curious expression.

“What? I like the colour red, and I'm curious.”

He puffs his chest out proudly, like being in Gryffindor is a good thing, before he speaks. “It's amazing. Everyone's really nice, and the common room is warm and cosy. There's dark wood stuff in there and everything's red and gold. If you like red you'd like it. There's a fireplace that has a lot of sofas and beanbags around it. And the dorms are really nice, too. Beds with curtains and lots of pillows. We're high up in one of the towers-”

“-Oh, so you are actually in the towers?”

Harry nods. “Gryffindor Tower. We have nice views. What's Slytherin like?”

“Black and silver and green, mostly. We have really nice furniture in the common room , beanbags like you said and long sofas and chairs. The fireplace is really big and really nice, too. The dorms are pretty and the bathroom's great, we have a big bath and I think it's made of marble. It's even bigger than the bath I use at Malfoy Manor! And the common room- the common room has a big window and you can see down into the lake, sometimes the squid comes up to it and does dances for us.”

Harry nods. “That sounds nice. Isn't it a bit cold?”

“I did mention the big fireplace, right?”

He rolls his eyes at her and she laughs without meaning to. “Anyway, I could ask the same of you. A common room in the towers? Isn't it freezing?”

“Not really. Besides, our house colours are nice and warm. Your house colours are cold, all that green and silver?” His charming grin offsets any offense she might have taken to his words, and she grins back at him impishly.

“Hey, at least we think about stuff. You Gryffindors are way too gobby. Look at you with Longbottom's Remembrall-

“We're _not_ gobby,” insists Harry. “We're just not afraid to say what we think.”

“ _I'm_ not afraid to say what I think,” she says indignantly.

Harry laughs without meaning to. “I think our houses are pretty similar, really.”

“I think so, too.”

“You know, if I'd have only met Malfoy, I would think Slytherins were all like him. But you're... well, you're nice.”

Dru nods. “He's a pig. Kinda glad I made a good impression on you though. It would be bad if the Great Harry Potter only thought Slytherins were bad, don't you think?”

Harry grimaces. “Don't, please.”

“Okay, sorry. And just so you know, Harry, you're quite nice too. Sometimes you're a bit loud.”

“And sometimes you're a bit scary,” Harry retorts.

They both lapse into an uncomfortable silence, neither really knowing what to do. Dru looks down at her feet, shuffling them round slowly. She wishes once again that she had the charisma of her brother; she would surely know what to say to Harry then. Harry coughs awkwardly.

“Well,” Harry begins. “I have to go through these.” He taps the newspapers in his hand. “It was... really nice seeing you again, Dru.”

“You too,” Dru says honestly. “And don't worry. I won't tell anyone what you said about Slytherin.”

“And I won't tell anyone you're not really scary. But maybe... could you maybe stop jinxing Ron so much?”

Dru chuckles. “Yeah, if you tell him he needs to stop being a fool!”

Harry snorts and shakes his head. “I'll try explaining that.”

“He's a Gryffindor. Good luck. Look, I'll see you around, Potter.”

“See you,” he says, and wanders off down the aisle. She looks down after him to see Granger standing at the end of the aisle watching them talk. Impulsively, she grins warmly at her and nods. She looks shocked, but then she half-smiles back awkwardly and nods, before turning her attention to Harry. Dru grins to herself as she leaves, glad her bad mood has abated. She's glad the only person she's tried befriending outside of Slytherin is such a nice person. As she leaves the library, she wonders if it would be a good idea to try making friends with other people outside Slytherin, now her reputation in the house is almost secure. Her path takes her towards the Great Hall for breakfast, and as she walks she hums tunelessly. Despite the argument with her brother, seeing Potter again and finding out something about her heritage- even if it's only the slightest thing- has made her content. She's sure Draco will be able to dig something up for her in the Malfoy Manor library on parseltongue; it's all just a matter of what she'll have to do to make it up to him after their argument. Her brother is fickle enough- she'll just ask one of the third-years to go to Hogsmeade for her and buy chocolates to gain his favour again. Comforted by the knowledge that she's finally getting somewhere with her search for an identity at last, she picks up speed. She's hungry, and breakfast is waiting.

 


	7. There's a Troll in the Bathroom!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! We're so so sorry updating took us so long! Both of us have been dealing with that terrible old thing called Real Life; university is just about to start for the pair of us! Juggling study and the fic will be hard, but both of us are determined to do it. Updates will still be coming, but they might be a bit slow. We're trying our hardest to keep writing :) We hope you enjoy this chapter! Have a lovely day :) -Liss x
> 
> Oh and as always, we don't own Mr Potter and his friends.

The morning of Hallowe'en is a surprisingly cheerful one for Dru. Autumn has always been her favourite time of year; when she was young, the Malfoys would invite guests over for the day. Crabbe and Goyle had often been guests along with their families. Dru had enjoyed the sweets they brought and the stroll they always took through the Malfoy Tomb. There had never been ghosts haunting the place, but she'd loved jumping out from behind the stone coffins at them all. This is the first Hallowe'en she's ever spent away from the Manor, and she's glad to be spending it at Hogwarts. In fact, she's way more excited than she's willing to let on. She loves autumn and all of the colours- she's even told the Whomping Willow it looks pretty with autumn leaves recently. Then she ran away, rapidly, to avoid the tree's wrath. Her only comment to Draco, who- as always- had been her partner in crime, had been “I don't think the tree wants to be pretty”.

They leave the common room in a huge group. In the mornings, the whole house sticks together and leaves just after curfew. On the way home at night, they tend to walk back in groups of about five, but nobody goes back to the common room alone in the evenings. Especially not today, Dru thinks as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. She's not sure if it's true, but she heard Peeves singing in the corridor a few days ago about the monsters in the lower dungeons and how All Hallows' Eve makes them stronger. Normally she wouldn't put much faith in _anything_ Peeves has to say; he is after all a bloody menace to the school's population. Despite that, though, she doesn't think he's ever actively tried to hurt anyone. Part of her thinks he might be trying to warn them, and she's not sure she wants to test Peeves' scary knowledge today of all days.

The Slytherins stick closer together as they walk together towards the Great Hall and relative safety. Pansy and Tracey are next to her- Pansy has her arm through Dru's, and Tracey is just ever so slightly ahead of her- and Crabbe, Goyle, Theo and Blaise are just behind her with Draco, but she daren't look around to try see them, just in case she sees the poltergeist instead. She keeps her gaze firmly fixed in front of her the entire time she moves until they reach the higher corridors, where they bump into a few Hufflepuffs. All of them look startled to see the entire House leaving together, but they just keep moving- breakfast calls, and that is far more important to them. As Dru climbs the stairs, she hears Draco sniffing happily behind her- the entire corridor to the kitchens smells like freshly cooked pumpkin. The Great Hall smells similar, and as they tuck into breakfast, there are extra pumpkin dishes and a few floating pumpkins with faces carved into them.

Lessons are centred mostly around the holiday, too- in History of Magic, Binns drones for the entire lesson about the history of Hallowe'en. He, like Peeves, calls it All Hallows' Eve. Dru makes a few notes on her parchment, but mostly she just listens. She thinks it might be the only time she's actually found Binns even remotely interesting. They have Potions straight after that, but Dru skips it. She already knows how to use snakeweed to treat ulcers and similar illnesses, and she doesn't have the patience today to deal with Crabbe and Goyle trying to blunder their way through the intricate potion they'll be making. Instead, she heads back to the common room briefly. She knows she's breaking the rules going to the common room alone and she is uneasy about it, but she wants to talk to Lilith. There's a distinct lack of information in the Hogwarts library about Parseltongue, so she's decided to try getting information straight from the source. Or a source, at least. Lilith is currently her best bet. As the others begin to troop through the dungeons warily, she slips off in the direction of the common room. Nobody stops her; the Slytherins know Snape has all but given up on Dru's attendance now- he doesn't even bother giving her detentions, just tells her to try better next time. Lilith is compliant when Dru asks her to come with her quietly. Once she's sure the other students are all in their lessons, she makes a beeline for the second floor girls toilets. Nobody ever uses them, so she'll be safe enough to sit and speak to Lilith. Once she's got inside, she crosses the room and sits with her back against the wall. She's partially concealed by the sink island but she can see the door, so she'll be able to see anyone coming and going- not that she expects anyone, but better safe than sorry. Pulling parchment, ink and her favourite quill from her bag to make any important notes, she settles more comfortably on the floor and pulls back her sleeve to reveal Lilith. Lilith unravels herself and flops onto Dru's lap.

“ _This one usually allows sleep_ ,” she hisses grumpily. “ _Why are we here?_ ”

“ _I want to know why I can talk to you, Lilith. I don't know if you can help me, but I've got some questions to ask you._ ”

“ _Hungry_ ,” is all Lilith says, curling in on herself. “ _So hungry, so very hungry. Is there bacon?_ ”

Dru laughs without meaning to. “ _Lilith, I don't have food! I fed you yesterday_.”

Lilith lets out a sigh of despair. “ _Always so mean, depriving me of bacon... ask the questions, and if you offer bacon, Lilith may answer_.”

“ _Here I am, talking to a snake, who offers to talk to me only if I feed her bacon. How am I meant to get you to open up-_ ”

A sudden noise startles her into silence. It sounds like stone moving on stone, and as she glances around wildly she notices the sinks shaking. Before her eyes, they move out and sink into the floor. After they've settled into the floor, a grate slides out and _clunks_ into place, revealing the opening to a deep hole.

Cautiously, she stands, picking Lilith up. Lilith slides inbetween her fingers, tongue tasting the air warily. “ _This is a snake-hole._ ” Her usually light-hearted tone is gone. For a change, Lilith is deadly serious. “ _This is much bigger than me. Perhaps one day will be big enough to slide in them safely... with enough food. Will be the biggest, most beautiful snake. Fit into the snake hole there, yes. Someday._ ”

Dru sighs with relief as Lilith mentions food again; it means that the hole poses no instant threat. She peers down into the inky blackness of the tunnel, trying to see the bottom of it, but it's far too dark to see where it ends- or if it ends at all. Is this one of the castle's secrets? Or is someone doing this- is it a prank? She wonders if it's a hallucinatory hex- she's not read about any of them yet, but she wouldn't be shocked if they were real. But who would have the courage to do this to her? As she stares into the darkness, Lilith's words echo in her mind, and a dark realisation begins to creep through her mind. Is this because of her? Speaking in parseltongue? What had she said to Lilith just before it opened?

“ _Close_ ,” she hisses uncertainly, stepping backwards off the grate. She'd told Lilith to open up, so-

The grate snaps back and the sinks shudder slowly, painfully back into place, stone scraping against stone until the tunnel is hidden seamlessly once more. A sense of dread settles in Dru's stomach like a rock as she watches the sinks, aghast. If it wasn't for the twisting fear in her stomach like a knife slicing through her gut, she wouldn't believe anything had happened at all. Just to further her panic, as she watches the sinks silently, she hears sniffling from behind her in one of the stalls. She whirls round to stare at it, her eyes wide with horror. How she didn't see it was locked when she came in, she doesn't understand. She must have overlooked it when she was sitting down, expecting the place to be empty.

“Who's there?” she calls.

A moment later, the lock clunks open and the door opens slowly, whining on its old hinges. Out steps Granger, her bushy hair sitting wildly around her face. She holds a crumpled tissue in her hand, and her eyes are puffy and red-rimmed. It's clear she's been crying for quite some time.

“Granger, right?”

She nods. “Hermione,” she sniffs. “You're... Druella Gaunt?”

“Dru, if you're going to use my first name,” she nods. Hermione nods back at her shakily.

“I heard... something. What did you, um, what did you do?”

“Nothing,” she snaps, just a little bit too defensively. “What are you doing in here? You're a teachers pet, not a skiver.”

“I was upset,” she snaps. Then she slumps in on herself again and sighs. It looks like she's about to cry all over again.

Dru looks at her for a minute, not quite sure what to say to the muggleborn Gryffindor in front of her. She feels pity for Granger, in truth. She's all too aware that Gryffindor honour works differently to Slytherin's, but she's teetered worryingly close to being in a very similar situation. She sighs and then runs her hand through her hair. “Who, er, upset you?”

“Just someone in my house. We... we had to work together in Charms. I told him he was doing it wrong and showed him how to do it right, but- but after the lesson I heard him telling everyone that there's no wonder I don't have friends. And... well, he's right. Nobody likes me. I read up on things to try and fit in because I'm muggleborn, but all I've done is make everyone hate me. I don't understand,” she says, her eyes swimming with tears. “I don't know what I'm doing wrong.”

“It's... alright, Granger,” Dru says, crossing the distance to Hermione and placing a hand on her shoulder gently. “I understand how you feel, to be honest. Back home... well, you know Draco and his moods. And sometimes I feel like I'm not like a real part of Slytherin-”

“But you've got- you've got f-friends,” hiccups Hermione awkwardly.

“Yeah, but Sytherin works differently to Gryffindor. I've only just got real friends. And I still understand how it feels because of my Aunt and Uncle. Besides, I'd bet whoever said it would feel horrible if they knew how much it upset you.”

“I don't think so,” she sniffs. “He's _always_ horrible to me.”

Dru drops her hand from Hermione's shoulder. “Want me to hex him for you? I reckon he'd leave you alone after that.”

“You hex him a lot already,” Hermione mumbles. “I don't want to hurt him, I just want- I just want friends.”

Dru can't help but smile. “I understand. Tell you what, Hermione Granger, we can be friends.”

Hermione looks at her like she's going to hex her. “Are you... joking? But you're a Slytherin!”

“I've got friends in other houses. I'm sort of friends with Potter, remember?”

“Harry? Oh, yes, he was talking to you in the library... I suppose if Harry likes you, you've got to be nice.”

Dru flashes a charming smile at Hermione. “I'm perfectly fantastic. Harry knows that.”

Hermione looks at her wide-eyed for a second and then Dru can't help herself. She starts laughing. After another moment, Hermione joins in, and the second-floor girls' bathroom is filled with the sound of their laughter.

“Thank you,” Hermione tells her earnestly as they begin to calm down. She wipes at the last of her tears. “Why were you in here, anyway?”

Dru stops for a moment to think, rapidly weighing up her choices. She could lie, of course- say she was skipping out on Potions, go into no more detail. But then a little voice in the back of her mind speaks up. Hermione's smart- everyone in the year knows that. She can keep up with the best of the purebloods in terms of academic knowledge, even if she is learning about the wizarding world and its culture. Maybe she could help. Instead of speaking, she pulls her sleeve up, revealing Lilith curled around her wrist. She looks up at the girls curiously as she is revealed.

“ _Why do you show me to this other?_ ” she hisses.

Hermione looks at Lilith curiously. “I didn't think we were allowed snakes.”

“We aren't, really. Nobody really knows I have her, and even if they do- Uncle Lucius is on the Board of Governors here, so they wouldn't dare take her away from me. I won't let them. But he doesn't want me to have her, so he can't know about her, so I try to keep her hidden mostly.”

Hermione stretches out a finger and tentatively strokes Lilith's head, looking down at her. “She's pretty. Why doesn't your Uncle want you to have her?”

“ _Why is the other touching me?_ ”

Dru ignores her again. “Because I can talk to her, and I think it has something to do with my family history. He and my Aunt refuse to talk to me about who my parents are or why my name is Gaunt. My mum is Bellatrix Lestrange, Aunt 'Cissa's sister- Draco is my cousin.”

“You can talk to her?”

“Yes. Watch,” she says to her new friend.

“ _Lilith,_ ” Dru calls. Lilith sways back and forth and turns to face her. “ _I'm showing you to her because she might help me to understand why I can speak to you._ ”

“ _Does she have bacon_?”

Dru laughs. “ _No, she does not. But she has hair like mine, you see?_ ”

“What's she saying?” asks Hermione.

“She's asking if you have bacon. Bacon is her favourite food, but it's not very good for her. Not that she cares. What does it sound like to you, when I'm talking to her?”

“ _I see the strange long scales. Not as neat as yours. You are well-kept_.”

“It sounds... like a snake.”

“ _That's rude, Lilith_.”

“ _Why? Is only true. The other's long scales are not like yours._ ”

Dru sighs. “She's saying your hair is messier than mine.”

Hermione pats at it self-consciously. “Is it? I never know what to do to it.”

“If I help you to keep it a bit less bushy... would you help me to try and work out some more about being a Parseltongue?”

“Is that what it's called? Parseltongue?”

“Yeah,” Dru says, gesturing to where her ink and parchment are sitting, waiting to make notes. “I was trying to take notes, but it's hard because it sounds just like English when I'm talking to her.”

“ _Why do you speak of me with this other? I can tell you are saying things about me. Always so mean, so rude, so heartless to poor Lilith, mistreated and ignored..._ ”

Dru just rolls her eyes at the snake and looks back over at Hermione.

“Do you want some help? We might be able to find something in the library-”

“Draco and I have already looked. There's only one book in there with anything interesting on it.”

“Have you looked in the Restricted Section?” Hermione asks. She asks like she's questioning the weather, not asking if Dru has broken school rules.

“Uh... no. I didn't think there'd be anything in there on it. I didn't think it was a dangerous thing.”

“I'd bet that if your Uncle didn't want you to have a snake when he found out you can talk to them... well, it might be related to Dark Magic somehow, even if it's just by reputation.”

“If I can get into the Restricted Section to search, I will,” Dru says, more than a little shocked that Hermione would be so blasé about breaking rules.

“Can all wizards speak Parseltongue?” Hermione slumps down onto the floor and picks up the parchment, looking at it curiously. There are only a few notes from Dru's brief research session with Draco; it doesn't take long for Hermione to look up from the page at Dru, eager to know more.

“The book I found said that it's not something learned, it's a magical ability, and not all magical people can do it. I've apparently been able to speak it since I was born, but I only got Lilith just before term started so I didn't know I could speak to snakes before then.”

Dru sits down next to Hermione. Lilith is still hissing her discontent, but when Hermione strokes her again, she falls silent and wiggles her head in pleasure.

“ _I like this one_ ,” Lilith says. “ _She would be better if she had food._ ”

Dru laughs again. “She likes you. She says you would be better if you gave her food.”

Hermione looks at her with an enthusiastic smile. “Could I give her food?”

“She ate just yesterday- she's greedy. She doesn't need to eat for another few days. But next time, you can feed her if you like.”

“Really? Oh, thank you!”

“So... do you want to help me research Parseltongue?”

Hermione nods. “Haven't I said yes already? I thought I'd said yes! It's fascinating.”

The discussion proceeds quickly after that. It turns out that despite the fact she's a Gryffindor, Hermione is an excellent student. She's the one who decides to start trying to translate the words that Dru speaks, though it takes a few hours of animated debate as to what the best way to research is. She makes Dru say a word, and then lets Lilith repeat it, and writes down what it sounds like to her. A lot of the words Lilith repeats sound very similar to Hermione. They spend hours making notes on words, trying to discover if there's any coherent structure to the language. Neither of them notice as the room grows dark around them.

“Maybe it's because it's a magical ability, but Lilith still just sounds like she's hissing to me. It sounds nothing like the sounds you make to me.”

Dru nods thoughtfully. “I wonder if- wait, what's that noise?”

A series of loud thuds echo through the thick walls of the bathroom to where the girls are sat. Both of them stare at the door to the bathroom, fear in their eyes. A loud scraping sound, like wood against stone, rumbles across the floor towards them.

“What is it?” Hermione whispers.

“I don't know,” Dru says, hastily stuffing the cork back into her bottle of ink.

The noise gets louder, and both girls leap to their feet, research forgotten. “In here!” Hermione says, running to a stall. Dru follows her, not really sure what else she can do. Once they are both inside, Hermione locks the door behind them. Dru looks down at Lilith.

“ _I need you to hide inside my robe and stay still. I don't want you to get hurt_ ,” Dru tells her.

“ _Yes, warm pocket for me. Nice and safe. Nobody will see me here. I shall sleep_ ,” Lilith says, sliding obediently into an inner pocket of Dru's robe.

“Will she be safe there?” asks Hermione, getting down onto her hands and knees to watch the door.

“She's safer there than on my wrist- oh, Merlin, _what is that_?!” Dru exclaims in a horrified whisper as she joins Hermione on her knees, peering out from underneath the stall.

“Is that... a troll?” whispers Hermione.

Hermione is correct; standing in the doorway to the second-floor girls' bathroom is a Troll. It stands almost to the full height of the twelve foot high doorway, looking into the room with an expression of pure confusion on its face. Its stone-grey skin is covered in lumps and his head seems too small for his body. It drags an enormous wooden club behind it. Dru thinks it has to be made from the trunk of a tree.

“Stay calm,” Dru breathes towards Hermione. “Trolls are stupid- we might be able to outsmart it and get out if-”

The doors to the bathroom swing shut and from the other side there comes a distinct scuffling. Dru blinks. She recognises that sound- it's someone barricading the doors so they won't open. Is someone trying to get them killed?

Hermione grabs at Dru's robe. “What do we do now?!” she whispers.

For once in her life, Dru is absolutely at a loss. She has no idea what to do. Every prank she's ever pulled has involved meticulous planning. And there is nothing planned about this. She shuffles backwards, and her shoe hits Hermione's bag, which falls to its side with a thump, books spilling everywhere.

“Damnit,” growls Dru under her breath. The sound has attracted the attention of the Troll. It turns and blinks at the stalls, and Dru can almost see the cogs of its mind turning as it begins to process the noise. Then, suddenly, it raises the lump of wood in its hand, frowning at the wooden stalls. Hermione is beginning to get to her feet, and Dru has to grab her and drag her to the floor as the Troll swings the club and destroys the entire row of toilet cubicles. Hermione shrieks as the wooden debris and dust falls on them both. Dru jostles alongside her on the floor, praying her robe is pulled round far enough to keep Lilith safe. Her hand slides inside her sleeve and finds her wand. She has no idea what spells would stop a troll, but she's not sure what else she can do. They push the door open and crawl out together, scrambling to their feet. The Troll scowls again, and raises its club, swinging it at the floor where the girls are both standing. Dru has no time to react, so all she does is shove Hermione to the side and leap backwards. Hermione stumbles to the side, but manages to remain upright. Dru is not so lucky, and lands flat on her back on a rather uncomfortable lump of wood.

“Ow,” she growls.

“What do we _do_?!” cries Hermione, who has also drawn her wand. She looks utterly lost. “I haven't read how to defeat a Troll!”

“I don't bloody know,” she says, dragging herself to her feet and staring down the Troll, who seems to be a bit startled at their speech. Then it glares at them once more, and raises its club to swing at them again. Grabbing Hermione's sleeve, they run past the Troll to stand near the island of sinks. Briefly, Dru contemplates opening the tunnel and jumping in it, and then she instantly rules it out. Far too many variables- she doesn't even know if the tunnel ends or _where_ it ends, it's possibly large enough for the Troll to follow... no. The tunnel is an incredibly bad idea.

Just as the Troll turns round to face them, its expression thunderous, Dru sees the door burst open behind it.

“Oh, thank Merlin- help us!” calls Dru.

Harry and the Weasley brother fly into the room as one and any relief Dru once felt evaporates. “No, go _fetch_ help! _GO_!”

The Troll swings for them both again, and this time it is Hermione who saves them both, pulling them both to the floor. Dru lands awkwardly on her chest and arms to try not to squish poor Lilith; the club sails just inches above both their heads as they squeal in fright.

“No time!” yells Ron. He stoops, grabs a piece of debris from the floor and launches it at the Troll. It takes no notice of it, instead hefting the club once more. Dru and Hermione both scramble for purchase on the floor to move out of its way, but neither quite manage it, and as the Troll hoists the club to its highest point-

A piece of metal pipe sails through the air, missing the Troll's head and _clanging_ loudly against the wall behind Dru. She hears Harry cursing that he missed the Troll, but he has managed to draw its attention away from Dru and Hermione- it lets the club fall harmlessly to its side and turns to face the new source of annoyance, lumbering clumsily towards him.

“Oi! Peabrain!” Ron follows his words with half a toilet seat. The toilet seat hits the Troll solidly in the face with a resounding crack. The seat does nothing, but it did hear Ron's insult. It pauses and turns to him, looking- looking hurt, Dru thinks with a shock. Hermione takes the opportunity to grab Dru and run towards the door. They watch the Troll the whole time, who seems to be uncomfortable with the shouting and noise. Making a decision, it begins shambling towards Ron, who- as ever- hasn't kept up with their makeshift plan, and is now trapped by the Troll, unable to escape.

Dru's mind frantically processes, trying to work out a plan. While she'll happily hex Weasley into next week, she doesn't want to get him killed- especially not on her behalf.

Before she's even had chance to think ' _what now?_ ' Harry has taken off running. He leaps from the floor directly onto the Troll's back. It barely takes any notice, just tries to shrug him off, but he's clinging on too tightly. He climbs to its shoulder, and then the Troll really does get angry, trying to shake Harry off. Harry loses his grip with his wand hand for a moment. In his confusion, he manages to stick his wand up the Troll's large nostril. It howls in pain and flails, and Harry is forced to cling onto it for dear life so he isn't thrown across the room. Ron, finally thinking fast, draws his wand. The Troll has managed to grab Harry by his robe and is in the process of picking him from its back. Ron points his wand at the Troll and yells the first thing that comes to mind.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_!”

The Troll's club flies into the air, controlled by a very confused-looking Ron. It flies higher and higher, and then- just as it is about to hit the roof- it drops, landing flatly on the Troll's tiny head. The Troll stands stone still for a moment, and then it falls flat on its back with a crash. Harry gets to his feet and brushes dust from his robes, shaking and breathing heavily. He leans down to pull his wand out from the Troll's nose.

“Ew, troll bogies,” he says, wiping the grey slime off on the Troll and then his trousers.

“Is it... dead?” asks Hermione.

“I don't think so,” says Harry, “just knocked out.”

Dru grins without meaning to. “You just... knocked out a bloody Troll!”

Harry turns and beams at her proudly. Ron sulks.

“I was the one who did it.”

Just before Dru can snap at him and start an argument, three very familiar figures appear in the doorway to the destroyed bathroom. Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell survey the room quickly. Quirrell slumps against the wall with a dramatic sigh as he takes in the unconscious Troll. Snape leans in close to the Troll, looking at it closely. McGonagall is eyeing the four of them with a stony glare that leaves Dru feeling incredibly uncomfortable. McGonagall won't let anyone get away with anything, especially not Dru- and in truth, Dru is a little scared of her.

“What on _Earth_ were you thinking of?” she snaps at them all. “You're lucky you weren't killed! Why aren't you in your dormitories?”

She turns her cold gaze on Dru first. Dru swallows, finding it difficult to speak. Harry and Ron are looking at the floor, too. All of them are at a loss for what to say. Funnily enough, it's Hermione that speaks.

“They were... looking for me.”

“Miss Granger!” says McGonagall sternly.

Hermione shuffles her feet and wrings her hands, the very image of sincere guilt. “I went looking for the Troll because I- I thought I could deal with it on my own- you know, because I've read all about them.”

Ron drops his wand in shock.

“I saw Hermione leaving whilst being escorted to my common room,” Dru adds. Hermione shoots her a look, but Dru is determined not to let her get into trouble alone. “I came after her. I tried to talk her out of it, but... I was stupid enough to think we could actually do it- together, I mean.”

“If it wasn't for Harry and Ron,” Hermione says, “we'd probably be dead. It was Harry who stuck his wand up its nose, and Ron knocked it out with its club. They didn't have time to fetch anyone- it was about to finish us off when they arrived.”

“Well, in that case... Miss Granger and Miss Gaunt, you foolish girls! How could you think of tackling a mountain troll alone?”

Hermione and Dru hang their heads, gazing at the flagstones in shame. Dru is surprised that Hermione has actually taken the blame for this- she was _sure_ she'd let Harry and Weasley get blamed. Maybe this is her way of 'atoning' for missing Potions, she muses.

“Five points will be taken from Gryffindor and Slytherin for this. I'm very disappointed in the pair of you.”

As she turns to deal with Harry and Weasley, Dru remembers her notes. She gestures for Hermione to collect her bag and stoops to do the same, stuffing her notes and ink into her bag. Her quill is damaged beyond repair, but the ink is intact. Gratefully, she stands. Hermione has retrieved her bag from the broken stalls. McGonagall has finished speaking to Harry and Ron.

“If none of you are hurt, you'd better return to your common rooms. Students are finishing the feast in their houses. Professor Snape will accompany you to your common room, Miss Gaunt.”

The four students nod, and then head towards the exit of the room, Snape one step behind them. Dru has never been happier to see the second-floor corridor in her life, and the look on Hermione's face tells of a story much the same. They don't say anything to one another because of Snape's presence, but eventually as they reach the stairs Hermione pipes up, looking awkwardly at Dru.

“Thank you for trying to persuade me not to go after the Troll,” she says to Dru. “Goodnight... Gaunt.”

Dru blinks once but then recovers quickly. She's impressed that Hermione's remembered what she said about the Slytherin house honour working very differently to Gryffindor's.

“Weasley, Potter, Granger,” Dru says, nodding once in their general direction. Snape nods at them too.

“Straight to your common room,” Snape reminds them as they begin the ascent towards wherever in the upper reaches of the castle their common room lies. Snape turns towards the stairs down. Dru follows him after a moment.

“Druella, do you really expect me to believe you would be so rash as to follow in the steps of a Gryffindor to prevent them from injury?”

“No, Professor.”

“You and Miss Granger were notably absent in Potions today. I am disappointed in you for missing your lessons once again, Druella. Please, consider the dishonour you could bring upon the Malfoy name-”

“You know as well as I do, _Professor_ ,” she says, stressing the word, “that my link to the Malfoy name is hardly as strong as you and my Uncle keep telling me.”

Snape acquiesces with an incline of his head. “Still, Dru, it does your reputation with the staff here no good to continually miss lessons.”

Dru sighs. “I'll try not to miss so many.”

“Thank you. Walk on the left hand side of me through the dungeons,” he tells her. She obliges willingly, instinctively drawing her wand. Snape has also drawn his- it seems that he and the Baron are both taking Peeves' advice seriously.

“Are you capable of a _Lumos_ charm?” he asks. “It would be beneficial if I had my wand free to cast spells without the interference of a light.”

Dru nods. “I think so, anyway. The wand motion is that, right? _Lumos_ ,” she says. Her wand remains stubbornly dark, and she pushes her dusty curls away from her face in despair.

“Less vigorous with the motion,” Snape tells her as they begin the descent into the darker dungeon corridors.

“ _Lumos_ ,” she tries again. This time, the spell works. She grins at the light and then holds it aloft. “Did it.”

Snape nods. “Hurry.”

Dru obliges. The dungeons are still worrying to her; those eyes are still haunting her nightmares. It seems like forever before she and Snape round the corridor to the reading nook. Merlin sits with a book, half-moon glasses perched lightly on the end of his nose as he reads. He looks up with a smile.

“Ah! Miss Gaunt. What a pleasure. You are the last Slytherin to return. The house awaits your return... and no doubt an explanation for the mess on your robes.”

Dru looks down self-consciously. “I'm sure they will.”

“Thank you for waiting for her, Merlin. You may go in now. Early curfew this evening.”

“The Baron has informed me, yes. Thank you for bringing her along safely, Severus. Good night to you.”

“Opheodrys vernalis,” says Dru. As the door opens her heart sinks. Lilith is still in her pocket, and she doesn't know if she felt her moving... what if she's hurt?

Merlin disappears into his other portrait with a jolly grin at her, but Dru can only manage a half-smile at best. She pulls her robe open and peers into the pocket of her robe, remembering all too well that she fell on her front and expecting the worst. But then the common room door is open, and people are calling her name. She closes her robe and walks in, surreptitiously patting the inner pocket; she feels Lilith move and poke at her fingers with the end of her tail, and is satisfied she's well enough for her to eat.

Draco is stuffing his face with chocolate cake as she walks into the common room at last; he and Blaise look up curiously at her. Blaise looks suitably horrified when he takes in her robes- with the dust from the bathroom stalls being broken, her clothes and hair are almost white. She shrugs and collects a plate of food from the makeshift tables in the centre of the common room and joins them.

“What happened to you, Dru?”

“The Troll,” she says shortly, picking up a piece of chicken and stuffing it in her mouth. She hadn't realised during her research, but she's hungry.

“You...” Blaise begins, but then thinks better and shakes his head. “Well, you're not hurt.”

“Of course not. I didn't _mean_ to run into the Troll. I was busy.”

“Busy doing what? You missed Potions again,” Lissa says.

“Sorry, Lissa. I forgot you needed help with the potion...”

“It's okay,” she says. “Pansy helped me.”

Dru smiles through her food at Lissa. The talk turns from the Troll quickly to their essay for Charms, and the events of the day. Draco collects more chocolate cake, and Dru can't help but relaxing- despite the Troll trying to chase them, she's not scared of it like she was with poltergeist. Whoever put the Troll in the room and locked the door behind it is troubling her a little, but for now she is happy simply to be back in her common room with her friends. Here, she is safe.

 


	8. The Quidditch Challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update guys! We're back into the swing of things at uni now- and Chapter 9 is already almost half-complete so it should be ready soon! Hope you enjoy! -Liss x

Dru has never understood why Quidditch is such a big deal. Hearing her brother raving about it for as long as she can remember has been more than enough to put her off it. Of course, Uncle Lucius always did insist it wasn't ladylike for a girl to be watching professional Quidditch matches, so she's never actually been to one. The only experience she's had with Quidditch has been Draco's recreation of the games, and he's so insufferable when he thinks he knows something Dru doesn't, she's been put off for life.

But when she wakes up on the morning of the first inter-house game, Pansy, Daphne and Lissa are already sitting by the brazier on Lissa's blanket. They are studying a magazine Daphne's mother sent her about Quidditch in great detail. At first Dru can't understand it, but then Lissa asks a question about what Bludgers are used for and then she realises Pansy and Daphne are teaching her about the game as best they can. She's secure in the group, but her wider reputation is yet to be stabilised. The more confident Slytherins have already challenged her a few times to try and ruffle her feathers- and one or two have succeeded. It doesn't mean she'll lose her position in the group, but it does mean the wider Slytherin community have respected her less. Once or twice, the others have had to step in and defend her. It doesn't help their reputations either, but most of them- Dru included- are secure enough now that it doesn't matter too much. She shakes her head to stop thinking about the nasty side of Slytherin politics, and sits up. The rustling of her sheets catches their attention.

“Morning, Dru!” says Lissa. “Pans and Daph are trying to teach me what the Bludgers do.”

“They hit people. Sometimes by themselves, sometimes because someone has walloped it at the other team,” Dru mumbles sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

“That's a good way to put it, Dru! I was trying to explain,” Daphne grins, “but I wasn't doing a good job. Are you coming to the game today?”

“No,” she mumbles, sliding from the bed and throwing her grey blanket around her shoulders, covering her green pyjamas. “I hate Quidditch.”

“Dru, you'll have to be there.”

“Why?” she asks irritably, stuffing her feet into the slippers and moving to the brazier. It's glowing nicely, but she throws some more wood onto it regardless. “I hate it.”

Pansy and Daphne look at Sophie Roper's bed pointedly. Ever since Lissa 'dealt' with her, they haven't bothered even speaking to her. She spends her time mostly with other Slytherins, only coming into the dorm to sleep. She even showers in the other dormitories too, as far as Dru knows.

Dru follows their gazes and then rolls her eyes, sitting on the floor with the others. “Again?”

Daphne nods. “Apparently. We got told by one of the others, a half-blood. It's why we're helping Lissa.”

“Not that we wouldn't help you anyway, Liss. We want you to enjoy the game too,” Pansy chimes. “But it's important you know enough that you can at least start to fend off idiots who want to disrespect you.”

Lissa nods. “I know. Thank you. I think I get it now. The seeker has to catch the golden snitch to end the game, right?”

Dru nods. “But just because the seeker catches the snitch it doesn't mean their team will win. The team does get points for catching it, though.”

  


So Dru agrees to attend the game with the rest of the Slytherins- partly to keep Lissa out of trouble, and partly because she's itching to get another hex sent Roper's way and if there's a chance she'll be able to, she'll take it- even if it does mean sitting through a Quidditch match. They all trundle readily to breakfast as soon as curfew lifts; it lifts later on weekends than during the week. Some of the older years are more willing to return to their common room during the day and have left their coats and scarves behind, but Dru and the other first-years do not have the same gall. They've taken all their things with them. Dru's dressed warmly anyway in a dark green-brown winter robe and boots, but she's brought a thick grey cloak to ward off the chill, as well as gloves and her Slytherin scarf. Draco notices it as they sit down for breakfast.

“Decided to give Quidditch a try, sister?”

Dru hums non-committally. Roper is sitting very near their group today, no doubt trying to see if the group is aware of whatever pathetic attempt she will make on their reputations. “Liss and Pans persuaded me. Wouldn't do to be seen not supporting our house, after all. Brothers and sisters in arms.”

Draco nods, reading Dru's tiny gestures towards Roper. His face lights up with understanding when Pansy joins in. “Aaaah. Well, I'm glad you saw sense.”

Dru helps herself to bacon and buttered bread, constructing a massive bacon sandwich. “I suppose.”

As they troop down towards the Quidditch fields a sudden thought occurs to her- Harry Potter is Gryffindor's new seeker. She'll be able to see how he copes in the game. If he's anything like he was when he dealt with her idiot brother, he should be a sight to see, so at least there will be one point of interest during the game. As they settle themselves in the stands at the opposite ends of the Quidditch pitch to the Gryffindors, Dru realises she's actually excited to see the game, and part of her is glad she's 'losing her Quidditch virginity', as Pansy said, at Hogwarts. As is to be expected, the far end of the stadium is crammed with a sea of red and gold. As is (apparently) normal for the houses, the Ravenclaws have joined Slytherin to support them and in amongst the red and gold of the Gryffindors Dru spots familiar yellow and black scarves. As she surveys the crowd, Lissa pulls her scarf a little higher next to her.

“It's a bit cold.”

“A bit,” agrees Pansy, her breath misting in the air.

Dru nods her agreement as she too pulls her cloak around her a little more tightly and adjusts her scarf. She scans the Gryffindors through a pair of Quidditch binoculars lent to her by Pansy, looking for Hermione, and it doesn't take long for her to locate her. She's standing near Weasley and some of the other first year Gryff boys, her hair bushy as ever- Dru remembers promising to help her tame it with a flash of guilt- and her Gryffindor scarf sitting proudly around her neck. Together they are holding aloft a banner that reads ' _Potter for President!_ '. Underneath the words is a very neatly drawn lion. Dru wonders who drew it absentmindedly as she waits for the players to appear on the pitch.

“It's nice, isn't it?” Lissa says to their little group, and gestures across the field to the sign. “That they made that for Potter. I know we're not meant to like that lot, but I think some of them are nice.”

Draco smirks. “I couldn't be friends with a Gryffindor- too stupid.”

Dru snorts. “You're only saying that because Harry didn't want to be your friend. I think I could be friends with some Gryffs- not all of them. Some really are stupid. But some aren't too bad, you're right, Lissa. I think the house rivalry thing is supposed to be based around Quidditch, not the entire year.”

Lissa nods her agreement, but their honest conversation is cut short by the arrival of Roper and her friends; appearances have to be kept up, especially around those who are rapidly making enemies of them. Lissa speaks first after her arrival. “It's a nice gesture, but it doesn't change the fact he shouldn't even be playing.”

Blaise nods. “Blatant favouritism. It's disgusting, really, all things considered.”

“But,” pipes up the Ravenclaw standing near them- Dru thinks it's Tracey's cousin- “don't you think he should be given the chance to prove himself before you judge him?”

Lissa shakes her head. “We'd never expect to be given a chance to play in the Quidditch team this year. Why should it be any different for Harry bloody Potter?”

“Besides,” Pansy chimes haughtily. “We did our flying lessons with him, and he's not the next prodigy. Higgs will out-fly him easily.”

  


Dru hears Roper giggling with her girlfriends somewhere just behind her. She chooses to ignore them for now; there's no point looking like she's picking a fight, and it's likely that Roper will claim someone told a joke if she turns on them now. She reminds herself to be patient, and surreptitiously touches Lissa's arm; she looks really uncomfortable with them laughing behind her. Pansy links her arm through Lissa's and grins. “Do you want to ask the seventh-years if they'll help us to make some of that muggle hot chocolate you brought tonight?”

Lissa nods, still looking tense. “That would be nice. I need to owl my dad and ask if he'll send me some more soon, we've had loads.”

“It's really nice, that's why,” chimes Daphne, who has finally circled back to their conversation. She was talking to a Ravenclaw about some beauty treatment or other. “I really like it, at least. We should have a beauty spa night tonight!”

Dru nods at Daphne. “That's a good idea.”

“We can do face masks and wash our hair in the sinks and put some of my potions on them, the ones Mother sent me...”

“And I think I have some moisturiser from Aunt 'Cissa left, she swears by it.”

“Then we can do that! All our dorm just pampering ourselves!” she says loudly, and Dru can't help but look at her with glee as she hears the giggling from behind them stop abruptly. She shoots a thankful glance her way as Lissa grins, which she just raises her eyebrows at and smirks. Just as Dru opens her mouth to say something else, a cheer spreads through the crowd, and the group turns to face the pitch, where the players are spilling from their changing room doors. Dru can't help looking at the Gryffindors, and there he is- Harry, in robes that are too big for him, drowning him in their extreme scarlet hue. _Ah, Gryffindors_ , she thinks to herself as the players kick off from the floor and fly up to sit in a circle around the referee, _they never did have taste_. Her Aunt would be tutting at their tasteless uniforms. She loves red, and even she thinks the colour is far too harsh to actually suit anyone.

Suddenly, while she's musing on the distasteful Gryffindor colours, she hears a whistle being blown, and the match begins. A Gryffindor boy is commentating today's match, one of the higher years, but Dru pays him no heed. She's enraptured by the game; this is the first time she's ever seen competitive Quidditch. There is too much for her to follow, and she has no idea how people manage it. Draco is lost to the world, focused so intently on the game that she thinks he might actually get a nosebleed at any moment. In truth, all of their little group is hooked. Dru's eyes roam the skies until they finally land on Potter. Draco would _kill_ her for saying this, but she's genuinely hoping he flies well today. He sits for quite some time, but eventually he begins to scour the pitch, looking for the snitch. When Gryffindor score, he does a couple of loops to celebrate, but he's back hunting for the snitch immediately afterwards. She's wondering what it would be like to play in her house Quidditch team when the cheering ramps up a notch. She looks up to see Higgs and Potter shoot straight in front of them in the same direction. She glances over at Lissa, who is shooting subtle glances at Daphne and Pansy as she cheers, making sure she's doing it right. She's learning fast, Dru thinks with a gleam of pride.

Dru's breath catches in her throat as Harry's broom _just_ catches Higgs' speed and he inches in front, his arm stretched for what can only be the snitch. But Marcus Flint is a good player, and just like that, he's in the way of Harry and the elusive golden ball. Harry's broom veers wildly off course and he fumbles with his balance. Dru gasps in horror, mind racing through spells that could save him.

“ _FOUL!_ ” shriek the Gryffindors in unison, but Harry is already back on the broom and shooting off after Higgs, who appears to have lost sight of the snitch and is flying around aimlessly again. The commentary gets louder and more insistent, so Dru finally begins to listen as she watches the two seekers hunting for the snitch.

“... Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet... who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession.”

Dru returns to scanning the whole pitch when she sees Harry flying quickly again out of the corner of her eye. He's just dodging a stray bludger, but then his broom jerks again unnaturally and he loses his balance. Dru watches curiously, wondering if he lost control of the damn flying stick for a moment, but when it does it again, she realises something has to be wrong. On impulse, she scans through the crowd for Hermione, who is suspiciously absent. Nobody else seems to have noticed Harry's problems, though, too intently focused on the game around them.

She makes her decision and grabs Lissa's hand. “Harry's broom!” she hisses at her.

She looks up and pales. “Oh, God. We've gotta do something!”

Dru nods. “Okay,” she says as loudly as she dares to make it seem normal. “Pans, we're gonna go to the toilet.”

Pansy nods, unfocused. They turn and take their leave, pushing their way through the jeering Slytherins to the quiet back of the stand. There's some students-muggleborn, Dru thinks as she files their faces through her mind to see if she recognises anyone who could be a pureblood threat (they are leaving the game halfway through, after all)- who are smoking something in the darker corners as they descend the stairs from the stands. Once free of any watching eyes, the girls run in the direction of the Gryffindor stand. There, they bump into Hermione, who looks just as worried as them.

“Hermione, Harry's broom-”

“I know, I have an idea!”

Lissa nods at her to continue. She shoots up towards the stairs to the tall Professors' stands, so the two Slytherin girls look at one another and then run after her. After a while, Hermione stops and begins to creep slowly forward, gesturing for them to stay quiet.

“What are you-?”

“If it's a hex,” Lissa interrupts her, watching Hermione, “then someone's got to be casting it.”

“Snape,” says Hermione in explanation, pointing her wand at his long black robe. “ _Incendio_!”

It takes no time for the robe to ignite, and the Professors descend into chaos as they try to put it out. Hermione shoots away from the scene of the crime without a second thought, pulling them both along by the hand to get them away from danger as fast as she can. Dru doesn't realise she's leading them towards the Gryffindor stands until the ugly gold-and-red is too blinding to miss.

“Oh, _Merlin_ ,” she mutters. “Liss, take off that scarf. Hide it if you can.”

Lissa looks around, rolls her eyes, and complies instantly, tying her scarf around her waist under her thick robe. Dru runs her hand through her hair and pulls her hood up a little more to hide her hair from any Slytherins with Quidditch binoculars at the opposite end of the stadium.

“You did it!” Weasley says to Hermione proudly, beaming at her. Then he clocks Dru and Lissa. He looks them up and down apprehensively. “Why are they here?”

“Because we can be,” retorts Lissa.

“Nice work, Granger,” is all Dru bothers saying.

“Thanks,” she smiles. “I've wanted to do that for a while. He's a vile teacher.”

“As well as that worked, I really don't think Sev- Snape is the one that did it,” Dru says.

“Of course it was; he _hates_ Harry!”

“And it did stop the hex,” Lissa adds, looking uncertain.

“Yes, but it also terrified most of the Professors in that stand. If you think the hex came from in there, I'd bet money it wasn't Snape. I've known him since I was a baby. He's not like that. Sure, he's mean, but he wouldn't try to hurt anyone.”

“I feel for you,” mumbles Weasley. “No, Neville, it really is okay. Harry's safe.”

Longbottom stops sniffling into Hagrid's jacket and looks up at the sky after a few more moments of Weasley's reassurance.

“He's going to be sick!” yells one of the Gryffindors from the front, causing the whole group's attention to be shifted towards the pitch once again. Harry is speeding towards the ground, his hands clapped over his mouth- it really does look like he's about to vomit. He tumbles to the floor in a heap, coughs, and as he draws his face from his hands, Dru realises he's caught the snitch.

Of course, the game ends in utter confusion after that; the commentator doesn't help in the slightest, being a Gryffindor fan- he's too busy celebrating to let anyone else know what's going on, so in the end, it is Professor McGonagall who takes the speaker system to announce the Gryffindor win. Dru and Lissa slip away from the Gryffindors as rapidly as they can, sliding their scarves back around their neck as they join the Slytherins coming out of the crowd. Pansy smiles warmly at them, but as she turns to them, Dru and Lissa see her right fist tightly curled- that means that there's an imminent threat incoming. Lissa's arm slides through her own nonchalantly. Pansy and Daphne look absolutely furious, and Dru gulps. Whatever's about to happen, it's going to be nasty.

“Look, there they are! Slinking back! I _told_ you they were going to the Gryffindor stands! I bet you've got yourself a smelly little Gryff boyfriend, don't you, Gaunt? Why'd you take the mudblood? Afraid of the judgements of your little pureblood friends?”

Dru runs her fingers through her hair and looks at Pansy and Daphne, both of whom look like they're about to kill someone. Lissa squeezes her arm, conveying her uncertainty. It is at that point that Dru's face resolves itself into one of calm serenity. She plasters the sweetest, most genuine smile on her face she thinks she is capable of and turns to face the voice. It belongs, as she'd expected, to Sophie Roper; by her stands Millicent, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Dru refrains from shooting her a filthy glance- she hadn't realised that Millicent had been swayed by Roper stirring the cauldron and causing problems, not that her loss of respect means a great deal in the long term.

“Ah, Sophie darling! It's wonderful to see you,” Dru drawls sweetly. Around her, her friends look positively terrified. They are used to seeing Dru react to these threats with scorn and a sharp hex- whatever this means, they know it can't be good. Even Draco, who knows her the best, is watching her with barely suppressed terror.

“Dru,” warns Lissa, unhooking her arm from Dru's and taking a step back. “Dru.”

“No no, Lissa,” Dru says warmly. “I was just about to mention how wonderful Sophie looked today- I really was. You look positively beautiful. Where did you buy that robe- was it one of the discounted end-of-season runs from Celestina Warbeck herself?”

Dru's friends giggle as the crowds move past them. Many of the Slytherins have stopped around the fight to watch the proceedings. Dru knows everything she says is crucial. Roper actually looks uncomfortable as Dru's friends laugh. Millicent, standing just to the right of Roper, grins at the floor as everyone laughs, but then she hastily covers it up by frowning.

“Just because you're jealous that I happen to have more respect as a family name than you, Gaunt. As it happens, this is from Twilfitt's Autumn collection. It was only released last week.”

Daphne snorts. “Really? I have three catalogues that will prove you wrong. That robe is from their Autumn collection, though... Autumn 1982.”

“Oh, _vintage_!” drawls Dru. Millicent actually laughs at this, and Roper turns to her, looking shaken.

“Why- why were you in the Gryffindor stands, Gaunt? Off to see your little Weaselly boyfriend?”

Lissa snorts. “Like we'd go anywhere near the Gryffindor stands.”

Dru rolls her eyes, but keeps her sweet voice. “I don't associate myself with blood traitors, darling. Or filthy half-bloods who cling to their wizarding parent to grab at respect.”

“But you'll associate yourself with mudbloods?” she retorts angrily.

At this, Dru's eyes flash red and her sickly smile turns sadistic. “Roper, watch your filthy half-breed mouth. You have no right to talk about your betters unless you're licking their boots.”

Roper falters again. Dru knows she's winning, but she's gracious enough to let her challenger drag out some sort of response. “B-but I _saw_ you with the blood traitor,” she whines. Around them, the older Slytherins watching their exchange laugh. Dru has officially won.

“You're seeing things, dear,” Dru chimes, slyly pulling her wand from the concealed pocked in her robe sleeves. “I think you might need to wash your eyes out- here you go- _Aguamenti_!”

She points the wand at Roper with a flourish. Influenced by her pure rage, icy cold water sprays from the tip of her wand and drenches the girl in front of her. Around them, the older Slytherins and her friends fall around laughing, though some of the sixth and seventh-years have looks of awe on their face at her choice of spell. Roper's friends take a step back from her, looking at her in a mix of despair and disgust. Dru smiles. “Oops. I missed.”

Lissa and Pansy are laughing so hard they're wiping tears from their eyes and trying to hold one another up. “Your aim is always bad with those spells, Dru,” Lissa says through giggles.

“I know, it's so terrible... and I was trying to be so nice. I almost feel guilty,” she says airily. The other Slytherins are dispersing- many of Roper's friends are slinking away from her quietly, with only a few truly loyal friends remaining to help dry her off. Dru links arms with Lissa again and they begin their way back to the castle. Blaise grins goofily at them both as they finally drop away from the crowds and can talk more openly again.

“Well played, girls. It was our fault that you got that challenge, and we're sorry.”

Draco looks guilty. “I spotted you over there just before you put your hood up. Sorry, Dru. I passed my binoculars to Pans, and then I think Roper clued onto what we were doing. It's my fault.”

“But she did good,” says Goyle. “You really showed her, Dru.”

Dru smirks. “I don't think she'll have the guts to try challenging me for a while now. Or you, Lissa. Well done for getting involved.”

“I just didn't want to take a step back and look guilty. Roper'd have it in for me if she got even half a chance. I owe you for playing that one for me, Dru,” she says lightly.

“Oh, no. I took just as much pleasure in that as you would've.”

Millicent Bulstrode is waiting for the group as they arrive in the courtyard outside the castle doors. The group sticks closer together as they walk towards her, but she looks almost guilty.

“Hi, guys,” she says sheepishly, kicking at the floor with the toe of her shoe. “Listen, Dru... I'm sorry I took Roper's side. I thought you guys didn't care about me, and Roper seemed to like me so much. But I think she might have been just trying to make you look weaker. And... that aguamenti was powerful. I don't know many first years that could cast it.”

The rest of the group study Millicent carefully. Letting her back into the group is a risk, and they all know it.

“We'll have to talk about this, Mill,” says Blaise. “See one of us tomorrow. For now, I'd recommend staying out of the way- that challenge will have hurt you, too.”

Millicent nods. “I know. I was stupid, and I'm going to suffer.”

Daphne looks troubled as the group leave her standing in the doorway to the castle. She's not alone for long, though- a second-year Hufflepuff joins her after a moment, and they start a path in the general direction of the library behind the group. Dru and her friends consider returning to their common room briefly, but instead decide to wait till after dinner. They take up residence in a familiar deserted classroom on the second floor to discuss their options with Millicent. It doesn't take long before Dru and Lissa are forced to explain why they were in the Gryffindor stands.

“That was such a Gryffindor move, Dru,” says Theo. “You're lucky nobody else really noticed you.”

“I know, but I didn't know if anyone else had noticed his broom... and yes, Potter's a Gryffindor, but I don't want to see him hurt from someone messing with it.”

“She has a point,” aqcuieses Draco, who is apparently in a reasonable mood today. “I hate him, but he doesn't need to die in an awful 'accident'.”

“So Granger thinks it was Snape?” Daphne says after another moment of silence, filing her nails.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Lissa says from where she's leaning against Blaise. None of them know how to Transfigure the chairs and desks into anything more comfortable, so they are leaning up against their bags, the walls, or each other. All of them are sitting on the floor. “She said that she knew it was Snape- and as impulsive as she is as a Gryffindor, I don't think she'd say it if she hadn't seen something to persuade her.”

“I don't think it was him. Draco and I have known Severus since we were little, and he's harsh but he'd never try to kill anyone.”

Crabbe and Goyle nod; they too have known Snape since they were little. “Yeah,” Goyle agrees. “Snape isn't that mean.”

“No, you're right,” agrees Draco. He stops to think for another moment.

“He might just have been talking to himself,” supplies Pansy. Everyone starts laughing, and then the conversation moves from Harry's broom to the game itself, and for once in her life, Dru has enough experience of the game to be able to talk about it with her friends. The afternoon passes quickly with their in-depth dissection, and they're almost late for dinner in the end.


	9. A Slytherin Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone! Me and Laura wish all of you a very happy festive season, with health to you and yours! We are so very sorry there haven't been many updates recently. University is super stressful for us both, but we're working on it. Hopefully now we've got past this block, updates will be more forthcoming! You'll get a chapter today and tomorrow. Seasonal, and all that ;) have a very lovely next few weeks. All the best! -Liss x

Dru hates Christmas, and she has done for as long as she can remember. Whenever the season to be jolly rolls back around, she ends up in a perpetual sulk, and this year it appears to be affecting not just her moods but her friendships too. The close connection built between her little group just after the Quidditch game cools as Dru begins to skive lessons and even meals to avoid seeing her friends' Christmas spirit. They cornered her one evening to ask what was wrong, but she didn't know what to say- how do you explain you don't feel like you belong anywhere for Christmas? So instead of talking about what's wrong, she takes to staying out roaming the castle halls till late, the poltergeists from the lower dungeons be damned. Whenever she tumbles into the dormitory- usually with a concerned and caring 'Good evening, Miss Gaunt,' from Merlin- her friends can be found wrapped in blankets and dressing gowns around the fire, talking about Christmas and their plans for the holidays. Halfway through November her worst fears are realised when the first sprigs of enchanted holly begin making their way into the corners of the common room. One morning she wakes up early to find that a house-elf has delivered a basket of decorations into their dormitory for them to decorate the room themselves as they see fit. She scowls at it and kicks it across the room to Pansy's bed as she dresses.  
The only down side to missing so many lessons is that she's racking up impressive amounts of detentions. Even that doesn't seem like a bad thing to her- they all eat into her free time, and Snape seems to be pulling strings on her behalf, because the Professors just make her do her homework, or set her extra to do during their detentions. Aunt Cissa sends her a letter, but Dru only reads the first line 'I am worried' before she rolls her eyes in disgust and throws the letter into the fire, stalking to the library to research if there's any way for her to jump forward in time to January. When she finds there isn't, she's angry enough that she actually throws the book to the floor. Pince bans her from the library until after the Christmas holidays in a fit of rage about the 'precious', so Dru has nothing left to do with her free time except roam the castle and the grounds, avoiding as many people as she can and sulking about how unfair it is that everyone else she knows gets to go home to their actual parents. Of course, this only makes her mood worse; Dru is not a creature designed to be alone, and her strict enforced loneliness to avoid anything resembling Christmas spirit is making her more sad. But she can't seem to bring herself to talk to anyone about how awful it feels to have nobody to go back to, no real parents waiting to welcome her back with open arms. For the millionth time, she wishes that the Malfoys had never taken her in- she feels guilty for burning Aunt Cissa's letter, but she's too angry and conflicted about the fact she isn't her real mother to bother writing back to her.

At first, she'd tried to bring Lilith out with her to try and research some more Parseltongue on her own, but the arrival of the Christmas period at Hogwarts also means the arrival of the bitter winter winds. The entire student body spends the majority of their days wrapped up warm in their house scarves and gloves as they traverse the corridors between lessons; not a single window in the school is airtight, and the cold air cuts through to the bones. It's too cold for Lilith, so even that small reprieve from the loneliness is stolen from her. After the first snowfall students who do not wish to be dragged into the nearest inter-house snowball war stay inside, though that has no effect on the temperature. No amount of fuel in the braziers around the building can fight off the icy chill. The Slytherins take the brunt of it- with the exception of their common room and dormitories, the dungeons are the coldest place in the castle. As they head to Potions one Friday, Lissa has them all in stitches with a muggle tradition. She breathes heavily into the air and points at the mist it creates, her gloved hands mimicking claws.

“Look, I'm a dragon!” she proclaims.

Dru is still giggling as they make their way into the classroom, huddling close to the burner for their cauldron, thankful for the warmth- Snape apparently forgets that ordinary people usually need warmth to concentrate, and never has heating charms around his classroom. Today she is partnered with Pansy to finish off a potion they started a few weeks earlier. They sit on a table next to Draco and Theo. Their potions are bubbling over the flames as they shiver and hold their hands out towards the heat.  
“I do feel sorry,” Draco says loudly, “for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home.”  
He's looking at Harry as he says it, but Dru can't stay calm any longer. Every time her brother has joked about this to try and get to Harry, it's made her feel even more unwelcome at Malfoy Manor for Christmas. Dru thinks he's jealous of how impressed everyone is about his performance in the Quidditch game, but it's actually starting to upset her, as well as Harry. In her rage, she pulls the hot stirring rod from the cauldron and whacks Draco in the face with the burning tip. He howls in agony and falls dramatically to the ground, holding his bloodied nose. Snape, of course, chooses that exact moment to leave the ingredients cupboard to begin the day's lesson, and Dru swears for a split second he looks surprised before his usual mildly irritated expression slides back into place. He glances between the boy crying on the floor and Dru wielding her weapon of choice.

“Druella Gaunt,” he says coolly, and Dru knows she's screwed up. “What do you think you're doing?”

“He was being rude,” she mutters, throwing the spoon to the ground. “I fixed it.”

“Crabbe, Goyle, take Mister Malfoy to the Infirmary. Miss Gaunt, that's five points from Slytherin and a month's worth of detention.”

The class watches silently as Crabbe and Goyle scoop Draco off the floor and lead him from the room. Dru hears him whining 'I think it's broken' as the door closes behind them and can't help but grin. Maybe he'll finally realise how thoughtless he is, she thinks to herself as she turns back to the potion at hand. Theo looks put out that Draco isn't there to help him- he isn't as good at Potions as Draco- but doesn't seem to look as upset with Dru as she might've thought. Dru wonders if he's as happy to go home for Christmas as he says he is, but says nothing. As the class begin to work again, slowly, Dru hears the Weasel complaining behind her somewhere.

“Five points?” he scoffs. “If you'd done that, he'd have taken twenty.”

“Fifteen points from Gryffindor for back chat, Weasley,” Snape snaps without even turning round. Ron throws himself to his feet, his face ruddy with anger.

“SEE?!” he yells.

“And another five. Is that enough from you, Mister Weasley?”

“Sit-” thump “DOWN!” thump. Harry hits Ron in the chest to punctuate his words and then yanks him down into his seat to avoid any more of Snape's wrath.

Dru is held back at the end of the lesson, and Snape demands to know why she broke her brother's nose. Apparently 'because he's an arrogant tool' is not a good enough explanation; her detentions will begin with him after the Christmas holidays. Angry enough that she could swing for her brother all over again, she stalks from the room to pace the corridors of the castle, hexing anyone in her way. She's in a bad enough mood that soon enough the corridors clear a path for her. Even Peeves stops singing when she stomps by, instead zipping away down the corridor in the opposite direction in silence.

As she turns a corner in the upper floors, someone grabs her arm lightly.

“Dru,” they say.

She turns, wand in hand, swearing to herself she will separate their arm from their torso, and finds herself staring Hermione Granger in the eyes. She lowers her wand, but remains tense until Hermione lifts her hand from her arm. She's with Harry and Weasley- of course- and it's Harry that speaks next.

“We were wondering if you want to come for a walk with us, Dru,” he says, but he's interrupted by Weasley.

“Harry and Hermione were wondering,” he corrects. Harry thumps him in the back in response.

Dru thinks for a minute and then raises one thin eyebrow. “Where to?”

“Just down to Hagrid's, we haven't been for a while. He's nice, you'd like him.”

“I don't like a lot of people, and I'm not really in a good mood.”

“Then it might cheer you up! Please, Dru,” says Hermione. “We wanted to thank you. What you did for Harry earlier was really nice of you.”

“I didn't do it for you,” she snaps.

“Doesn't matter either way. It was still pretty funny,” Weasley says.

“You're not going to leave me alone until I agree to walk with you, are you,” she says, resigned. Harry and Hermione shake their heads and Dru rolls her eyes. “Fine.

They set off walking and fall into two pairs, Hermione and Ron walking together in front of Harry and Dru. Dru frowns as she walks- the last time she spoke to Harry was when they were fighting the Troll, and she has no idea what she's meant to say to him in a casual conversation. She fiddles with her hair, trying to work out what to say.

“So why did you do it?” Harry asks, and then looks down to the floor awkwardly. “I mean, if you don't mind me asking.”

“He's my brother, and I'm the only one who can stop him without damaging my reputation with the house. You get sick of the stupid after a while.”

“So it's not just us he does it to,” Harry scoffs as they round a corner. “I shouldn't be so surprised.”

“No, he's like that with everyone,” she says, only half-lying. “Aunt 'Cissa dotes on him. He gets everything he wants.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Lucky him.”

“He can be okay sometimes,” Dru says, feeling guilty. “He's not all bad. But Uncle Lucius has been cold with him lately, and keeping up appearances for the family name is hard work. Ignore me. I just get angry sometimes that he has his future all set out for him and a name that gives him some protection from the idiots of our house.”  
Harry nods, although Dru can tell after a glance or two at him that he doesn't quite understand what she means. She feels stupid for telling him so much, especially as he's a Gryffindor- he was never going to be able to properly understand why she could get away with hitting him, and she doesn't really know why she doesn't feel comfortable at Malfoy Manor this Christmas, so she can't talk about that. Stupid, Dru. Stupid.

“So, um, I saw the Quidditch match the other week,” she says after another moment. Harry looks over at her and smiles awkwardly. “The catch was good.”

She can't help laughing as she takes in his expression- it's a mixture of pride and despair. He laughs as well as they walk together, and Dru relaxes a little. She's making progress on being friends with him, at least.

“Thanks,” he says after a few moments, “but I don't know if it qualifies as a real catch. I wanted to thank you for that as well, by the way. Hermione said you came to find her, as well as another Slytherin. Not many people noticed the broom thing.”

“Lissa, yeah.”

“Wait. Isn't she the muggleborn Slytherin? I've heard some of the other people talk about her. Why are you friends with her?”

Dru looks over at Harry confusedly. “What do you mean, why am I friends with her?”

“Well... I thought... your group's got your brother in it. Does everyone like her?”

“If you mean because she's muggleborn, it's not that important. Yes, blood purity is important to those who have it, but Liss has talents of her own. I haven't ever known anyone so determined to earn respect. She deserves every shred. Besides, I like her. We don't hang around with people just for respect, you know.”

“I will never understand your house,” he says.

“I've spent my whole life learning the politics and even I feel that way sometimes.”

They haven't even made it out of the castle before they find Hagrid- as they reach the main entrance, he's there heaving an enormous fir tree in the general direction of the Great Hall doors. Ron and Hermione set off running towards him down the marble stairs, and Harry and Dru follow suit.

“Hi, Hagrid, want any help?” Ron asks.

“Tha's alright, Ron. Wouldn't want yeh hurtin' yerselves. Yell yeh what, though. Come into the Great Hall, looks a treat!”

They follow Hagrid as he drags the tree to the doorway, talking slowly about the essay for Potions- well, Hermione and Dru talk about the Potions essay. Ron and Harry get bored after a few minutes and instead start talking about Quidditch. As they drift through the doors behind Hagrid, they are greeted by Professors Flitwick and McGonagall. Both Professors are busy decorating.

“Ah, Hagrid! The last tree is for the far corner, if you wouldn't mind.”

As Hagrid grapples the tree into the corner, Dru and the others are left to look around at the décor of the Hall for Christmas. The Malfoys' Christmas decorations have always been extravagant- Dru is used to the giant Christmas trees and beautiful spelled snowflakes, for example- but that's nothing compared to the splendour of the Hall. Even Dru, the resident cynic, looks around in awe. She'd deny it vehemently if anyone asked, but right at that moment, she genuinely feels excited for Christmas. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hang around the walls and no fewer than twelve towering Christmas trees stand around the room; some sparkle with tiny icicles, while others glow with the warm light of hundreds of small candles. The familiar candles that float in the air are still burning and floating round them in the spaces are suspended snowflakes that glitter coldly in the light. Dru's breath catches in her throat. It looks beautiful.

“How many days you got left until yer holidays?” Hagrid asks them as they look around in awe.

“Just one,” Dru replies.

“That reminds me- Harry, Ron, we have some time before lunch. We could go to the library and do some research. Do you need anything from the library, Dru?”

“The library? Just before the holidays?” Dru asks of Harry. “Not like you.”

“We're not working, we're doing some research for- some personal stuff,” Harry says uncomfortably. Dru raises an eyebrow at him and looks to Hermione, who just shrugs as if to say _not here_. To further her point, she looks over at Professor Flitwick, who is decorating the final tree with golden bubbles that are blossoming from the tip of his wand.

“Actually, I've got something I want to look up, too. And I need a book from the library for that essay Snape set. I'll come with you, if you're okay with that?”

Weasley sighs dramatically and looks grumpy, but Harry and Hermione both smile and nod. “Sounds good. Come on, let's go.”

Once they reach the library- Dru shoots in before the trio and down an aisle to escape the view of Pince, who she knows will kick her out again if she sees her- they all begin looking. Harry and Ron disappear down aisles looking intently at book titles, and Hermione pulls a mystery list from her pocket, points to let Dru know which direction she's going in and then disappears too. Dru takes a moment to collect her thoughts- it's been a while since she's been in the library without needing to work on homework, and she doesn't really know where to begin. After a while she realises that she's done next to no research on parseltongue for a long time- even her interaction with Lilith has been minimal, though she knows her snake understands it's too cold for her to come out of the dormitory. She wanders the aisles, wondering if there could be any other books with an indirect link to the language.

As she strolls the aisles, she recalls the passage she read on parseltongue; it said that the trait was likely to be passed through families. If that were the case, then she might be able to find something on her family. That is if she's actually a Gaunt. At least it's something... she might be able to start there and find something good. Her mind made up, she begins looking for books on powerful wizarding families, eventually finding one on the sacred twenty-eight just in time for Harry to get all of them kicked out of the library. Pince apparently wasn't taking kindly to him hovering near the entrance to the Restricted Section, and when she saw Dru loitering near him she honestly thought she might start blowing steam out of her ears.

“Lunch, and we've still got nothing,” Hermione sighs as they head away from the library. “You two will keep looking whilst I'm away, won't you? And send me an owl if you find anything?”

“And you could ask your parents if they know who... _he_ is.” Ron glares distrustfully at Dru as he speaks. “It'd be safe to ask them.”

“Very safe, as they're both dentists.”

“I'm not very hungry,” Dru says abruptly. The trio come to a halt and look at her curiously, but she just offers Hermione a small smile. “I'll see you around.”

“Oh, alright.” Hermione smiles wistfully at her.

Harry looks like he wants to say something important. “We'll see you later,” he says eventually.

She leaves them at the stairs down to the dungeons and heads to the Slytherin common room, ignoring her rumbling stomach. She's frustrated with Hermione for not trusting her enough to let them help with whatever they're looking for- she feels certain she'd be able to do something to help them, even if it was only helping them look for books or something. She doesn't like feeling like she's being kept at arm's length from the only two friends she's made who aren't Slytherins. Her dorm is full of half-packed trunks and clothes everywhere- by now, everyone in her dorm is aware she's not going home, so she doesn't think it's too rude of her to just climb into bed and draw her curtains. Drawing the curtains round her bed is unusual for her, but she just wants to be left alone. She doesn't even bother opening her curtains when the others troop back into the dorm. She knows it's late; they probably sat around in the common room after dinner, talking about Christmas.

“Dru, you missed dinner again,” Lissa says to her through the curtains. Dru knows she's sitting on the floor by the brazier on her blanket- it's her trademark position, right next to the warmth. “We brought you some food. Do you want it?”

“No.”

“Okay. We'll leave it on your bedside table then, just in case you get hungry. Have you fed Lilith since I fed her at the beginning of this week?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to feed her?”

Dru doesn't bother replying. Pansy pipes up next. “The house-elves brought another one of those horrible thawed mice for her to eat. It's in the box.”

“I'll feed her. Please don't forget to feed her over Christmas, won't you Dru?”

Dru doesn't reply, but just lies there sulkily, feeling tears welling in her eyes as she listens to Lissa handing Lilith, talking to her in English- even though she knows she'll never understand her. Dru hears Lilith hissing back at Lissa happily, something about liking her though she knows Lissa can't understand her either, and rolls onto her side, away from the noise. She cries silently for an hour into her pillow until the dorm have gone to sleep, and then, slowly, opens her curtains and collects the cold plate of food from the side. She eats it quickly and drinks some of the glass of water they left her, and then puts them both back on her bedside table. Her bed feels very lonely as she curls up tightly in it and slowly drifts into sleep. Her dreams are cold and lonely, and she feels desolate, looking for a piece of jewellery in a room full of junk; a piece she is certain she won't find.

The next morning, she is awoken by the entire dorm chattering excitedly about the holidays- even Roper begrudgingly bids the group farewell as she leaves the dorm to find her friends, and alerts them to the fact she will be moving into another first-year girls' dorm after Christmas. When her friends leave, she finds herself wanting to get out of bed to say goodbye, but her face is red and still puffy from crying for so long the night before, so she just sticks a hand out of the curtains at the bottom of her bed to wave at them all.

“Dru- aren't you coming out of there?”

“Leave her, Millicent, she's probably still half asleep. Have a nice holiday, Dru. I hope it's not too lonely. You will owl, won't you?” asks Pansy, grabbing hold of Dru's hand and lacing their fingers together. She squeezes her hand encouragingly. “If you don't owl in the first three days, I'm owling you. Four times a day. Till you reply. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” grins Dru finally. “I'll owl you. Have a nice holiday, Pans.”

“I'm sure I will.”

“Dru, will you owl me, as well? I'm going to feel so weird going back to muggle life for Christmas now. I bet I'll keep asking myself why none of the photographs in our living room move.” Lissa grabs her hand just as tightly as Pansy and shakes it. “Owl me?”

“Okay, Liss, I'll owl.”

The rest of her dorm all grab her hand one after the other and remind her to owl, and then she hears them all leaving, bags in hands. Slowly, she hears the house-elves pop in and out of the room with a crack to carry their trunks away, and once she's heard nothing but silence for a good twenty minutes, she allows herself to get out of bed and head to the bathroom to take a long, hot bath, soaking away the tears and her stresses. At least now she can enjoy Christmas at Hogwarts without feeling like she doesn't belong- and actually, she feels better already. By the time she is dressed- in a beautiful green woollen jumper, a grey skirt and beautiful brown leather boots- it's about half past one in the afternoon. Merlin's portrait is sitting in the common room, reading a book from one of his many bookshelves. He looks up when he hears Dru leaving her dorm and smiles at her warmly.

“Miss Gaunt, a pleasure indeed! Good afternoon. You are the only remaining Slytherin. I trust you are aware of this?”

She looks around, shocked. “I... actually wasn't. I thought someone else would have stayed back.”

“Not this year. As such, Professor Snape wished me to inform you that the password has been lifted from the common room for the duration of our delightful festive break. Instead, to get in, all you have to do is lift the candlestick outside the common room in the reading alcove. Does that suit you?”

Dru nods slowly, taking in the knowledge she will have the entire common room to herself for the whole Christmas break. “Thanks, Merlin.”

“Not a problem, Miss Gaunt! Will you be well here alone for these two weeks?”

Dru rolls her eyes at him grumpily, good mood dissipating. She doesn't need his sympathy as well. “Yes, Merlin, I'll be fine. I think I'm going to go for a walk.”

She stalks back to the dorm silently and pulls a thick grey winter cloak out, her beautiful gloves and a green scarf. She wraps them around her tightly as she leaves. Merlin nods to her, but doesn't make a move to the outside portrait- he knows there is no need, as Dru rarely keeps to curfew and will come and go as she pleases during the holiday. Dru loses herself in her thoughts as she paces around the castle grounds, briefly considering visiting Hagrid before dismissing it as utter lunacy and returning to the castle. She discovers, late that night, a hidden passage in the castle that she thinks leads to Hogsmeade, but her rumbling tummy forces her to abandon her exploration till another day in favour of returning to the common room, where Merlin has had house-elves bring her enough food for four people from the kitchens.

“Thank you, Merlin,” she says with relief, tucking into her first proper meal in weeks.

“You have lost a noticeable amount of weight, Miss Gaunt. I think it only fair that you are given the opportunity to put it back on over the festive period!”

Dru eats all of the food and gets a considerable amount of her homework done that evening, occasionally asking Merlin questions about things she thinks he could help with. It turns out he's a master of Potions, and so she asks him for tips about her essay from Snape. The next day, she explores the hidden passageway again, and is suitably smug when her suspicions are confirmed and she arrives in Hogsmeade. No longer will she have to ask her third-year peers to buy her things in the town. Aside from Merlin's constant company in the common room while she works and her pride about finding a hidden passageway out of the school, though, she is painfully lonely. Merlin reminds her daily that the remaining staff and students do eat meals in the Great Hall together if she wishes to join them, but she can't be bothered, so instead elects to remain alone and miserable. Once her homework is complete she takes to spending time in the dormitory with Lilith, catching up. Her petulant snake is insulted by the lack of time she's been spending with her, and makes her displeasure known every hour for the first day or so, but eventually- with the persuasive technique of bacon- Dru manages to gain the respect of her reptilian friend again.

Once she's back on speaking terms with Lilith, she and her snake are inseparable. With nobody on the corridors to disturb her, Dru takes her snake everywhere, though she's careful only to talk to her when there are no ghosts around. Her company is worth having to wear extra layers, lest the bitter chill get to her. One day during her journey through the school corridors she remembers the book she borrowed from the library just before Pince kicked her out, and scurries back to her cosy dormitory to read it. She builds a nest in the bed out of the duvet and some of the clean pillows from her friends' empty beds, and then sets to reading it. Lilith slithers around on the pages, trying to be helpful.

“You were so rude, but I am helpful still. See? Helpful,” Lilith insists, poking Dru with her tail as she rolls down the book and gets stuck in the spine. Dru laughs and picks her snake up gently. She's a lot bigger than she once was, and she curls easily round Dru's forearm now as she leans over the big book to read. Most of the notes are on families she knows well- the Malfoys among them- but when she reaches the name 'Gaunt' her heart leaps into her mouth and she finds herself too scared to read on any further. A few minutes later, she takes a deep breath and begins to read.

**_A Modern Study of the Sacred Twenty-Eight_ **

**_Gaunt_ **   
_The House of Gaunt was once a wealthy and prominent family line in the English Wizarding community. Considered by many to be the most pure-blooded family in the English community, they are rumoured to be descendants of Cadmus Peverell, one of the three famous Peverell brothers. Many also believed they were the last true descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself, one of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and creator of the Slytherin house, though this is more legend even than the believed relation to the Peverell brothers. While it is indeed likely that the Gaunts were descended from Cadmus- the Gaunt line is known for its powerful skill in magic and politics, though it was rare that the aptitude for both was found in a witch or wizard of the family- the only potential link to Salazar Slytherin is the familial trait for parseltongue, or the language of the snake. The family tradition was to marry cousins in order to keep their line pure and retain the parselmouth ability and in doing thus their bloodline remained entirely pure until the 20th Century; however by this time a trait for violence had flourished within the family, leaving them poverty-stricken with only a few heirlooms to their family name._

_The last known members of the Gaunt family lived just outside Little Hangleton. Marvolo Gaunt and his two children, Morfin and Merope Gaunt, were the last of their line. Marvolo passed away in 1926. Of his children, Morfin passed away in 1943 in Azkaban. Merope Gaunt disappeared without trace in 1926 and has yet to be seen, though she is now presumed dead- thus officially ending this familial line in 1943._

Dru's heart is pounding so hard she thinks it might burst out of her chest and she's struggling to breathe as she rereads the passage again, attempting to make sense of the words she's taking in. Salazar Slytherin, her ancestor? There is no doubt as to why the hat put her in Slytherin, then- if she's truly a Gaunt, she literally belongs here!

“But that's impossible,” she mutters after a minute, looking at the dates again and frowning. If she's a Gaunt, there has to be some discrepancy in the dates in this book. There's at least fifty years between her year of birth- 1981- and the year her lineage is presumed to have been ended, in 1926. She lets Lilith floomp happily down onto the paper and leans off her bed to collect a quill and parchment to write to her brother, demanding for him to sneak into the library on her behalf and do some work over Christmas.

“ _Like the feel of this. Is it food?_ ” asks Lilith, sliding over the parchment and tasting it curiously with her forked tongue.

“ _No, Lilith,_ ” laughs Dru. “ _It's not. It's words. Like what we are saying, just written down. And in the other language I speak._ ”

“ _Ah, the not-snake. I do not understand how it is things said on the flatness. Words must be spoken_ ,” says Lilith, slithering in a tight circle.

Dru slides from the bed to go and find Nib in the Owlery and send Draco her letter. “ _It's... not easy to explain. I need to give this to my brother. Stay here... and try not to scare the elves this time, please._ ”

“ _It is not my fault if they poke at me. Will bite, if they hurt. Nasty long pointy things_ ,” Lilith is hissing to herself as Dru wraps herself back in her cloak and runs as fast as her legs will carry her to the owlery with her note for Draco. She walks back slowly, lost in thought, followed by Peeves, who appears to have softened a little with Christmas spirit, and is singing twisted versions of old carols at the few students left round the school. Dru wonders absently what he's planning to do to them all as he zips past her down the corridor singing- he must be planning something big to be so 'nice' to people.

After a few days- mostly spent roaming the castle grounds; she goes to visit Hagrid at one point which is nice, though he doesn't really have much to say- it becomes obvious Draco isn't planning on replying. Sitting in the common room with Lilith on her lap, reading one of the books from the shelves outside the common room, Dru remembers that she never actually apologised for breaking his nose- or, for that matter, said goodbye to him when he left for Christmas... or actually told him she wasn't going back to Malfoy Manor for the holidays. He's probably still angry with her. She contemplates apologising to him, but then realises it's probably an apology best given in person. She'll have to wait till he comes back. A few days before Christmas, she does begin to write to her friends- she writes longer letters first to Pansy, then to Lissa and finally to Daphne about her holiday at Hogwarts, and then sends a quick note to Millicent, Theo, Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise, wishing them all a merry Christmas. As an afterthought she realises that she hasn't written anything to her two Gryffindor friends, and so she writes both Hermione and Harry a note, saying she hopes their holiday is going well. She gets simple responses from the group, and longer replies from Daphne, Lissa and Pansy. Best of all, she gets a response from Hermione, full of excitement for Hogwarts again in the new year.

Christmas Eve is the best day of Dru's holiday so far. Despite being a constant cynic about Christmas, she's actually excited in a strange way. And she's closer to Lilith than ever before- probably due to the fact that there's nobody else to talk to. She spends most of Christmas Eve in the common room, talking to Merlin about parselmouth.

“Did you know there was a language of snakes, Merlin?”

“Hm?” he asks, looking up from his book. “Yes, yes I did. I am a parselmouth myself.”

“Really?”

“Yes. If you would permit it, I could ask your snake what she thinks of you.”

Dru smirks. She can hear Lilith's voice in the back of her mind now, wailing about how mistreated she is because Dru won't give her bacon. “Maybe.”

That night, in bed, with the brazier blazing in the centre of the room, Lilith winds herself through Dru's fingers happily and hisses in what Dru presumes is laughter. “ _You are right_ ,” she says lazily, twisting to look at her human friend. “ _I would tell him there is not enough bacon_.”

Dru rolls her eyes at her snake. “ _You're not supposed to have bacon_.”

Dru looks down at her snake for a reply, but there is none forthcoming- Lilith is already asleep. Dru smirks at her pet and settles her carefully on the pillow next to her, and finally closes her eyes.

When she wakes on Christmas Day- late, of course, as Pansy took her alarm home with her for the holiday break- she is greeted by an array of presents. In boxes, wrapped in a rich purple with big black bows she discovers new robes, three new dresses, a new pair of boots and some socks, enough sweets to sink a ship and – to her utter glee – various books from their library and a letter from Draco with his well-wishes. She also has a new pocket watch from Uncle Lucius that actually allows her to set an alarm, a few bits for Lilith from her Aunt ‘Cissa, who seems to have worked out that she never actually released the snake, and a response from Harry, which sits on the end of her bed in a tightly rolled scroll.

_Dru,_   
_Thanks! Merry Christmas, how is Christmas Day at Malfoy manor? I usually get a pair of second hand socks from my Uncle and Aunt. I’m not expecting anything at all this year seeing as I stayed at school. But this is probably going to be my best Christmas yet because I don’t have to spend it with them. I hope you’re having a good holiday._   
_\- Harry_

Dru blinks at the letter a few times, curious as to how she's managed to miss Harry round the school since the holidays began. Then again, she thinks, she hasn't been attending meals, so it would be unlikely to bump into him anywhere else. She shrugs and slides from the bed, careful not to disturb her snake, who is curled tightly in a bundle just under the duvet. She decides on a beautiful grey dress for the day, intending to wear her new robe- really more of a cloak- out around the castle. She slips thick socks on and sturdy boots in case she needs to walk anywhere, and then smiling down at Lilith, collects up her wand and leaves the dormitory. Merlin is awake in his portrait, and by the looks of it has been for a while- his cheeks are red from alcohol. He waves at Dru with a warm smile.

“Good morning and merry Christmas to you, Miss Gaunt!” he cheers, taking another swig of Firewhiskey.

Dru smiles at him briefly, fastening her robe and adjusting her scarf. “Merry Christmas.”

She departs just in time for the Christmas dinner in the Great Hall- which is good, as her stomach is growling. By the time she's wound her way through the dungeon corridors to the Great Hall, she is ten minutes late. The doors are closed; she shoves them open with effort.

The long tables she is so familiar with have been replaced with one fairly large round table, covered with a vast array of food and decorations. Each place mat is decorated with a sprig of holly, and the golden cutlery is wrapped in a thick cream napkin and tied with red ribbon. A goblet stands by each plate in the proper place, and wound round the stem of each one is a length of ivy. Each goblet has leaves of a different colour to tell it apart. The table is groaning with food- Dru counts at least three turkeys to feed the meagre gathering, with all the trimmings. There are bowls of pigs in blankets, sprouts, steaming piles of vegetables, roast potatoes and mashed potatoes and crispy bacon, presumably used to cover the turkeys while they cooked, and more gravy than she ever thought possible. She grins at the sight of the food, and then her attention finally turns to the people seated around the table. The meal is just beginning, and everyone seated around the table has looked up to the door. Dru has missed every meal with the people still here for Christmas, so before she takes a seat she stops and takes a look at everyone already at the table. Her eyes are drawn to Dumbledore first, seated in the biggest chair, peering benevolently over his half-moon glasses. Next to him sits McGonagall; her hair is loose for once, and it falls down around her shoulders. She looks less severe that way, Dru thinks, scanning the other people. There are a few other members of staff too. Hagrid and Snape are figures she recognises, and then she spots Flitwick, seated on his usual high chair near McGonagall. Dru spots Harry at last, sitting next to Ron. There is a spare chair- no doubt intended for her- to his left, and Dru smiles at him in relief, her attention now shifting to the Hall itself.

The familiar Christmas trees stand to attention around the Hall, and at each of their bases today stands a collection of boxes wrapped in gold with white bows. Even the hourglasses at the end of the Hall have been decorated; round the top and the base sit beautiful, snow covered pine boughs. Dru's attention drifts skyward, and she realises it's snowing- but whether it's an enchantment for Christmas or not, she doesn't know, as the windows are frosted with ice from the cold outside. It is truly beautiful. Even being as cynical about Christmas as she is, she can't help but feel a little bubble of happiness inside as she crosses the Hall to sit in the empty space next to Harry, pulling off her gloves and scarf as she does.

“Ah, Miss Gaunt. It is a pleasure to finally have you join us for dinner. I trust you found all your Christmas gifts in order?” Dumbledore asks as she slips off her beautiful new robe and slides it round the back of her chair alongside her gloves and scarf.

“Yes, Professor,” she says dutifully, though in truth she'd rather everyone just went back to their meal and let her strike up a conversation with Harry and the Weasley. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Miss Gaunt, and once more to all of us gathered here today!”

“Merry Christmas,” everyone intones back to Dumbledore, and then people slip back into their conversations with one another and the meal starts back up again.

“Dru, I thought you were at home! Merry Christmas,” says Harry to her with a grin.

Dru helps herself to turkey and then begins requesting food to appear on her plate. Once she's finished, she turns to Harry with a shrug. “I've been here the whole time. I didn't fancy Malfoy Manor this year. How come you're still here? Merry Christmas, by the way.”

“Malfoy was right,” he shrugs, taking a bite of turkey. “I'm not wanted at my Aunt and Uncle's. But that's fine- this has been the best Christmas yet!”

Dru grins. Being around Harry makes her feel better- he understands how she feels, although she's never explicitly put it into words around him. She feels more festive near him than she has all year- neither of them really belong with their families, but both of them belong here, at Hogwarts, and Dru finally realises that is reason enough to enjoy the holiday. “I'm glad you're enjoying it. What stuff did you get?”

“For Christmas? I got so many things... I'm used to an old pair of socks from my Aunt and Uncle and nothing else. This year, I got some chocolate off the boys in my dorm, and some fizzing whizzbees from Ron, a quill and some ink from Hermione and- look! Mrs Weasley, Ron's mum- she knitted me a jumper with my initial on it! And it actually fits me,” he says with a proud expression.

“Why is it a big deal that it fits you?”

“Well- because at home, my Uncle and Aunt make me wear my cousin's clothes. The ones he doesn't want any more, I mean. They're all too big for me.”

Your family won't buy you clothes?” Dru asks incredulously. While she does tend to turn her nose up at gifts her Aunt and Uncle buy her without her knowing, they would never say no if she needed a new dress or set of dress robes for an occasion. “Are they... poor?”

“No, they just don't like me,” Harry says simply. “I'd get all the leftovers from the Christmas dinner, too. This is the best Christmas meal I've ever had.”

“Don't they know who you are?” she asks, taking a bite of the turkey and mmm'ing in bliss. It is very good food.

Harry actually blushes and goes to take a drink. “No, it's... I... they don't care if I'm famous.”

“Well, they ought to. If You-Know-Who had won the war, then they wouldn't be around anymore.”

Harry says nothing, but takes a bite of his meal. On the other side of him, Ron has two turkey legs in his hand and is taking alternate bites out of each of them. Dru smirks at him. “Think you can eat, Weasley?”

“Ah cam eaf,” Ron says around a mouthful of turkey and mashed potato. He swallows and tries again. “I can eat. Eat more than a girl could, anyway.”

“Want to bet?” Dru asks, looking smug.

Ron looks at her and narrows his eyes. “You're on.”

They set off at a ridiculous pace. Harry keeps up with them for a good portion of their meal, to Dru's surprise, but even he stops after the third helping to 'save room for pudding'. Dru eats five helpings of dinner. Ron manages four and a half.

“I'm winning, Weasley,” she says with a cheeky smile.

“Yeah, but pudding comes next,” says Ron.

“Will there be treacle tart, Professor McGonagall?” asks Harry.

McGonagall is saved from answering by the appearance of puddings- and lots of them. Dru is thrilled to find there are three enormous apple pies near her. She takes a huge slice of the first one and pours cream on it. Two places to her right, Ron is already tucking into his first helping of jam roly poly. Dru grins at him and digs in. She manages two helpings of the pie. Ron finishes his jam roly poly and custard, then gets through two helpings of treacle tart. He finishes his plate just as Dumbledore finishes eating and looks across at Dru with a grin on his face.

“Well, that concludes our Christmas meal. There will be food in your common rooms this evening, should you choose not to attend our little evening gathering. For the older students, there is coffee now, if you so desire. Or tea, yes Filius, there will be tea.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry says to Dumbledore as they all get back up, most students donning their coats and scarves once again to roam the school. Dru's attention is caught once again by her beautiful cloak. While definitely green, it dances through shades of green, silver and black in the light. It looks wet, but is definitely dry- almost like wearing running water, she thinks as she strides out of the Great Hall, the cloak flowing behind her. Ron calls after her.

“Hey, Dru!”

She stops and turns, wondering if he's ever actually called her by her first name before.

“What?”

“I won. Told you I can eat more than a girl,” he says, but the grin on his face gives away his begrudging respect for her.

“You can eat more than me all you want- I'm still better at hexes,” she laughs as Harry catches up to them both.

“You ate more than I thought was even possible, both of you,” he says, tugging his familiar Hogwarts robe around himself. “What are you going to do now, Dru?”

“I don't know,” she muses aloud. “I'd ask if I could come back to Gryffindor with you, keep you guys company, but... honestly, I don't think I'd be able to stomach all that red. It would be rather like something had eaten me.”

Ron actually laughs at her words, then shakes his head. “Slytherins. None of you have taste.”

Dru grins at him. It appears their eating contest has sealed something of a friendship between them- at least today, anyway. “I think I might go back to my common room. I have some books from the library at Malfoy Manor I want to read. I might see you at supper.”

“We're going out to build a snowman later. Do you want to come with us?”

Dru looks at the boys and then shrugs. “Yeah, I guess that would be nice. When were you thinking about doing it?”

“Later. Maybe in the evening? We were thinking about going down to Hagrid's for a while, too.”

“I might not go to Hagrid's, but I'd like to build a snowman. I won't ask you to come to the dungeons, it's freezing down there. Meet you outside here in a while? Say about four?”

“Sure thing. See you later, Dru!” Harry and Ron call as they are dragged towards the moving staircases by the other Weasley brothers. Dru waves at them as they leave and then heads back to the common room. Merlin has wandered out- presumably to visit a friend's portrait for Christmas. An almost-empty bottle of firewhiskey sits on the table by his armchair. Dru smiles at it, then goes to fetch Lilith and a book or two from her dorm. The snake is muttering to herself about the 'pointy' things again. Dru shakes her head at her pet and then settles on one of the low loveseats next to the fire. Throwing a few more logs on and poking at it for a while to keep it well lit, she picks up a book that Aunt 'Cissa always used to read to her on Christmas Day as a child. She sits for a moment, Lilith curled around her left arm asleep, staring at the cover. It's so familiar to her now that she could almost persuade herself she is in one of the parlours in Malfoy Manor- Lucius would be sitting in the corner, glaring stonily at her and her brother as Aunt 'Cissa reads quietly to them from her beautiful high-backed armchair. Draco would be sitting next to her on the sofa, both of them listening intently to the words her Aunt would breathe life into from the page. The Christmas tree- always dressed in the same silver and black trimmings- would be glistening coldly in the corner. Dru and Draco would be exchanging glances with one another, waiting for the inevitable dismissal as soon as the book was finished. Then together, her and Draco would return to a bedroom and- in recent years- talk about Pavo, and what they hope he is doing. It is clear on Christmas more than any day of the year that Draco misses his older brother terribly, and Dru misses him as well. Dru's fingers slide over the cover and she opens it. There is an unfamiliar inscription on the title page.

_I luv this boOk. thank you mummy for reading it every christmas. luv pavo xx_

Dru looks at it sadly. She misses her brother a lot. Aunt 'Cissa must have spelled it to be invisible in the Manor- Lucius tore the house apart removing any trace of Pavo from it once he had been banished from the family. Everything has to be properly done- everything. Dru knows Aunt 'Cissa is risking his wrath by keeping this hidden; he hits Draco whenever he's done something that displeases him, and while Dru's never seen him raise a fist to his wife, Dru knows she's good at glamours. It's clear losing her son is hurting her still, even years later. She sighs. Lucius is so obsessed with appearances- everything must be done properly and be just so, or he feels the family is not living up to its reputation. She sighs. She misses her Aunt and Draco a lot today, but dealing with her uncle just isn't worth it.

She opens the book and begins to read. Curled comfortably on the cosy velvet loveseat, warmed by the fire and with an incredibly full belly, it doesn't take long for her eyelids to grow heavy. This Christmas has been the best she's had in years, and she's more relaxed than she has been for the whole holiday. She falls asleep only a few pages into the short story.

She is woken by a pervasive chill creeping into the room. She shivers as she comes round, pulling the robe she threw off as she curled by the fire round her and grabbing at her wand. The fire has burned down and the lights have brightened, so she is disoriented and confused as she spins. A knot of fear twists through her stomach as she realises someone- or something- has found its way into the common room. She points her wand at the door and scrambles off the loveseat, watching intently. She has no way to call for help if the poltergeists from the lower levels have found their way in- a quick glance at Merlin's portrait confirms he is still out. If one has found its way in, she's going to die- or worse.

She takes a slow breath to focus, and just as she does, someone appears from literally nowhere in the doorway to the common room. She shrieks and shoots hexes in their general direction, scrambling backwards, and just as she falls flat on the floor, she hears a very familiar voice.

“Ow! Sorry, Dru- OW! Can you-”

She scrambles back to her feet to see one of the books from the shelves near the door repeatedly bashing Harry Potter in the head.

“ _Finite incantatem_ ,” she says, and the book falls obediently into Harry's hands. “Harry! I thought you were... for Merlin's sake, how did you get in here?”

“There's no password. I just messed around with the candle holder.”

Dru takes a shaky breath in and slides her wand away, running her free hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry. I just wanted to show you this...” he says, stooping to pick up the bundle of cloth at his feet. It is shiny and silvery grey, and looks like running water, like her cloak. Dru watches appreciatively as Harry picks it up.

“It looks similar to my cloak.”

“Yeah, but watch this,” Harry says, throwing it around himself. With the hood down, Harry's entire body vanishes into thin air, so he looks like a floating head.

“Wow! How did you get this? Invisibility cloaks are so rare!”

“Ron said that, too. It was with my presents this morning. Whoever gave it to me left me a note telling me it belonged to my dad and to 'use it well', whatever that means. I've been wandering around the castle for ages exploring, but you never showed up when we were going to go outside to build a snowman, and I wanted to see if you were okay. It took me ages to find your common room. Did you know you can find your way to it with the snakes on the torch things?”

“Yes, they told us that at the start of the year, only Slytherins are meant to know. I'm sorry I didn't come out to build a snowman with you. I fell asleep after dinner, and you woke me up. What's the time?”

“I don't know, but it's late. Definitely after curfew. Do you want to come explore the castle with me?”

Dru grins and nods. “This robe's a bit billowy. Wait here and I'll go put something warmer on.”

She runs as fast as she can back to her dorm and slides Lilith off her arm and into her warm tank. The snake doesn't react, except to hiss a little in her sleep. She rummages in her trunk for her thick black winter cloak and wraps it tightly round her shoulders as she leaves the dorm. Her gloves and scarf are still on the side in the common room, so she goes straight back to Harry and pulls them on. Once she's ready, Harry holds the cloak out with a flourish and she laughs despite herself and slides under it dramtically. He follows her under it. The cloak is more than large enough to cover them easily, so they head straight out of the Slytherin common room and towards the stairs to the upper floors.

“Where are we going?” whispers Dru.

Harry shrugs. “Astronomy Tower? We could talk up there for a bit!”

Dru nods as she walks in front of him. “It's this way, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, pressing closer to her as a ghost glides down the corridor, humming to itself.

When they get to the Tower, Dru slips out from under Harry's cloak and sits with her legs hanging over the side of the tower, her arms pressed up against the cold iron railings. She looks up at the stars in awe, her breath clouding heavily in the air. Harry sits close by her to stay warm, still wrapped in his cloak. Dru snorts when she looks over at him.

“You look like a floating head,” she says.

“You look like a zombie,” Harry retorts. “You're all pale in the moon, and the black makes you look worse.”

Dru laughs. “I suppose you're right... Aunt 'Cissa always did say black washed me out.”

“Why didn't you come to any of the meals, Dru?” Harry asks suddenly, looking at her seriously. Dru looks away from him, over the castle grounds, feeling the cold metal biting into her skin. “There was a spare seat at all of them for you. I didn't even know it was meant for you until Christmas Day.”

“I didn't really want to. I felt bad. I hate Christmas.”

“I wanted to ask you why before the holidays started. But you were so angry all the time, I didn't think it was worth running the risk of being hexed...”

“I wasn't angry!”

“Dru, you told Hermione you were going to slice her arm off.”

“Wait, did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did. So, c'mon. Why didn't you go back to Malfoy Manor this year?”

“Because... look, it's complicated.”

“As complicated as being told when you're eleven that you're the most famous person in a world you've never known?”

“Almost,” she insists, then she looks over at him again and relents. Her gaze slides back to the view over the grounds as she speaks.. “Okay, well maybe not. I always knew about the wizarding world, I guess that's something. But I don't know my parents, and all that stuff my brother was saying was getting to me, too.”

“So it doesn't feel like home?”

“No. I mean, I'm not a Malfoy, am I. I'm a Gaunt,” Dru says bitterly, suddenly fighting tears. “And ever since Pavo got disowned, everything's fallen apart. Uncle Lucius just sits and glares at us all, because he misses him but he's not allowed to admit it, because of the rules.”

“Wait. Who's Pavo?”

“Draco's brother. He's a Hufflepuff, and he's not a part of the family anymore. Uncle Lucius disowned him. There's an old spell that pureblood families use. If... if you'd known your parents, they might have told you it. The Potters are a really old blood.”

“Are they?”

“Yeah,” Dru says, looking across at her friend and shaking her head in fond despair. “Wow, you really don't know anything about bloodlines, do you?”

“I grew up knowing nothing about magic, Dru. So... about your... other brother. Is he still at Hogwarts?”

“Yeah, I think so. The spell means it's harder for us to notice him. He'd be... sixth year. He's six years older than me and Draco. He had a girlfriend before Uncle Lucius disowned him, and I think she might have looked after him, but I don't remember her name, either, or where she lived. I only remember Pavo because I loved him so much. Draco really misses him. It was... nice. When Pav lived with us. I remember one Christmas, when I was really little, maybe... four? We'd gone to sit in the parlour after dinner, and Aunt 'Cissa read us a book. Pav was sitting next to me and Draco by the fire, and when she'd finished, Uncle Lucius got a house-elf to fetch us hot chocolate. We drank it by the fire, and then he gave each of us a special present, after we'd opened all the others.”

“What did he give you?”

“It was a bracelet. It was made of silver- I think he hoped I was going to be a Slytherin, even then. Pavo got a beautiful leather bound journal with the Malfoy crest on it, I remember. I don't know what Draco got, because he opened his after I'd got my bracelet and I was so distracted by it.” Dru smiles crookedly. “That was a nice day.”

“I wish I had a good Christmas memory like that. You're lucky you have some, at least.”

“Yeah. I didn't want to be near Uncle Lucius this year, though. He doesn't like me. I don't know why. He was nice when he had Pavo, but then Pavo left.”

She glances at Harry and notices he's staring at her openly. She pins her gaze firmly on the sky above them as she sits, legs dangling, scuffing against the rough stone of the castle. “It's nothing. There's nothing I can do. I'm not even a Malfoy. Draco might be able to find a way to undo the spell when he's the head of the family, but until then, there's no way either of us will ever really see our brother again.”

“All of a sudden, not wanting to go home and breaking your brother's nose makes a lot more sense,” Harry says so quietly she almost thinks she's imagining things. But then- out of nowhere- he puts one arm around her and awkwardly hugs her.

“Thank you,” she says around a familiar lump in her throat that tells her she's close to crying. She leans into his embrace for a moment and then he lets her go and she blinks back the hot tears that threaten to spill down her face. “I didn't mean to say all that. I'm not supposed to tell anyone about my brother.”

“It's okay,” says Harry. “I won't tell.”

Dru nods and smiles, finally looking over at him properly. He grins back at her, black hair as messy as ever and his glasses slightly crooked from hugging her.

“Besides,” Dru says, hooking her legs back onto the platform and yawning, “this Christmas has been the best yet.”

“Why?” asks Harry, copying her and stifling a yawn of his own.

“I guess I finally found a place that feels like home.”

Harry nods. “Hogwarts is the only place I've ever belonged.”

“Me too. Will you sneak me to my common room? I could go down myself, but if Merlin's back-”

“Merlin?”

“Our common room guardian is a portrait of Merlin, didn't you know? He went to visit a friend, but if he doesn't know I'm gone, he'll be worried if I just come in, especially this late. You can sneak me to my dormitory and then go again.”

“Okay,” Harry agrees after a moment. “Can we go exploring again tomorrow night?”

“Definitely! Let's go- but be quiet, Filch likes to wander round here at night.”

“Okay,” Harry whispers, throwing the invisibility cloak around them both.

Their journey back through the castle is spent in silence, though Harry has to grab Dru's shoulders to stop her standing on Mrs Norris at one point. They slink back through the dungeons in silence, and Dru hides as close to Harry as she dares as they walk through the dungeons. When they get back to the reading alcove, Harry pokes his hand from under the cloak and shoves the candlestick back. It tilts backwards with a snick and the common room door opens slowly. Dru looks over to the portrait of Merlin nervously, but the almost-empty bottle of firewhiskey is still standing there, and his armchair is still empty. Dru steps out from the cloak, relieved, and gestures for Harry to show himself as well.

“It's safe. Merlin's probably asleep in someone else's portrait, so you can come out for a minute if you want. Oh, thank Merlin the house-elves did the fire again. It was cold in here...”

“It's freezing in the dungeons. Listen, Dru... I'd better go. Ron offered me a game of wizard's chess when I got back to the common room.”

“Okay. I should probably sleep. Do you want to go for a walk tomorrow or something?”

“Maybe! Come to breakfast, and we can decide then.”

“But we'll definitely go exploring tomorrow night, right?”

“Definitely. I'll come down when Ron and I go to bed.”

Dru grins at Harry's floating head. “Great! I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Night, Dru.” Harry turns to leave, pulling his hood up so he is invisible; the common room door opens regardless to let him through.

“Wait, Harry,” Dru calls after a few moments. She's sure she's missed him, but then his face appears back in the middle of the corridor.

“Yep?”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being my friend,” she says honestly.

Harry grins at her goofily. “Thank you for being my friend, too. Goodnight, Dru.”

“Night, Harry. I'll see you at breakfast.”


	10. The Mirror of Erised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas once again, everyone! Here is your second half of the two part Christmas special- hope you enjoy! We'll be back to less regular updates once again after this, as I'm working over the rest of Christmas/New Year and I have a whole load of uni work to do, but we'll do our best! Thank you very much for reading this, it's the best Christmas gift we could've had. We're very grateful :) 
> 
> http://druellabellatrixgaunt.tumblr.com is the place to be if you have questions or want regular updates from the fic. Thanks guys! -Liss x

Breakfast the next morning is later than usual, at 10am instead of 9. Dru strolls in a few minutes early to find that McGonagall and Dumbledore are the only ones seated at the table. McGonagall smiles warmly at her as she wanders over to a chair and settles down.

“Good morning, Miss Gaunt. Did you enjoy your Christmas?”

“Best one yet, Professor, thank you.”

“Breakfast starts in ten minutes, but there is juice, if you'd like.”

“Pumpkin would be nice, Professor.”

A house-elf pops into existence with a jug and pours a goblet of juice for her, then disappears once again. Dru sits quietly, tapping on her knees and lost to her thoughts of the night previously, sitting with Harry atop the Astronomy Tower. It doesn't take long for the Weasley tribe to arrive; they pour through the door in a lump of orange. Harry is still proudly wearing his knitted jumper, this time over a shirt that looks about six sizes too big for him. He and Ron both grin at Dru as they enter and take seats next to her.

Nobody else turns up for breakfast, but after the dinner they had the night before, Dru can't really blame them. Harry and Dru talk about building another snowman for a while, but it is Ron who actually takes her by the arm to drag her outside and build one. A house-elf appears briefly with a few carrots and some pieces of coal for them to make faces with. The rest of the day they spend outside building an igloo- Harry and Ron's attempt fails miserably, but Dru ends up being rather good at building, so eventually they end up letting her tell them what to do. They build three igloos before it gets too dark to see properly, and they agree that the day has been spent well. Dru takes her leave of the boys with a grin and heads down to the common room for a sandwich and a hot bath to get rid of the chill.

Once warm and dry once more, she curls up on her loveseat in front of the fire with a book, reading intently; Merlin wanders sleepily back into his portrait after a while. He settles in his armchair, yawns, and then turns to look at Dru with a warm smile.

“Good evening, Miss Gaunt.”

“Hi, Merlin,” Dru replies, looking up from her book with a smile. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

“Why... yes, I did rather. Did you enjoy your day?”

Dru nods. “It was the best Christmas I've ever had.”

“I'm glad to hear that! Now, I'm afraid I must get some rest- please do feel free to talk to me... tomorrow...” Merlin trails off, his head nodding to his chest and his eyes closing. After a few seconds he is snoring very softly.

Dru smiles. Perfect. Harry will be able to come into the common room without any problems, now. When Merlin's asleep, nothing will wake him. She goes back to her book, but she's excited for Harry to arrive, so instead of reading she decides to go get ready; she runs back into her dorm and tugs out the comfiest, warmest pair of walking boots she owns, her scarf, gloves and her black cloak. When she carries them back through to the common room, there is a floating book by the loveseat. She looks at it and throws her scarf at it to reveal a vaguely human shape.

“Hey, Harry,” she says quietly, stooping to put on her boots. “You can take the hood down. Merlin's not going to wake up.”

Harry complies and pulls the scarf away from him, throwing it back at Dru. “Hi! Ron got into bed and fell asleep straight away, so I came straight down. Where do you want to go tonight?”

“I don't know. Did you want to go somewhere?”

“The Restricted Section of the library. There's something I want to look for.”

Dru shrugs her cloak around her shoulders and stuffs her hands into her gloves. She nods at her friend. “Sounds good to me, too. I can look for some stuff myself.”

She slides under the cloak after Harry and adjusts her scarf around her neck, then starts moving. “Come on, let's go.”

Their journey to the library is cold and dark, but they encounter nobody, and Dru is grateful for it. When they get to the library, they have to shove the doors open, as the stiff hinges have seized up in the chill. The library is almost pitch black, and something about it unnerves her more than it does in the daylight. Harry holds his lamp out from under the cloak, which makes him look like a floating hand. They sneak through the gates to the restricted section and check around to make sure it's safe for them to show themselves, then they remove the cloak.

“Don't go too far,” Dru whispers to Harry. “If something goes wrong, we'll need to hide.”

“I won't,” he says back, wandering off in the opposite direction, lamp held aloft.

“ _Lumos_ ,” whispers Dru as Harry's light gets fainter.

Wandering the aisles with her wandlight, Dru reads several of the titles on the shelves and pales a little. Simply reading the titles of some of these ancient and dusty books serves as explanation enough for their separation from the rest of the school's books. Some of them are in different languages, but almost appear to look down on her with disdain; she shies away from them, looking over her shoulder for the reassuring presence of Harry's light down the aisle behind her. Some of the books are only a few pages long, more leather cover than actual pages, and some of them are so thick Dru doubts anyone but Hagrid would be able to lift them.

A faded-dust covered book catches her eye- the title suggests it may hold some interesting information. She puts her wand between her teeth and gently pulls it down from the shelf. As she does, several loose pages slide from between the covers and float to the floor. She stoops to gather them together and stuff them back into the book. Scrabbling in her gloves, she collects them together, but just as she stands to put them back into their place she hears a bloodcurdling shriek cut through the silence of the room; Dru leaps almost a foot into the air, her heart pounding, her fight-or-flight mode kicking in instantly. Her first thought is to run, but she turns first to find the source of the noise- and to look for her friend, as she's loathe to leave him behind- and finds that Harry _is_ the source. The book he's holding has a face in it, and that's the source of the screeching. He stumbles backwards and knocks over the lantern in shock, and Dru's brain kickstarts once again and she springs into action. Stuffing the loose papers in her pocket- she'll burn them later if they're useless- she stuffs her book unceremoniously back into its place on the shelf and runs to Harry.

“ _Shut it up_!” she hisses, grabbing it from him and slamming it closed.

The scream echoes around the huge library for another moment, then it fades and silence prevails. She stuffs it back on the shelf and Harry throws the cloak clumsily around them both. They stay still for a single more moment to make sure they are both hidden.

“ _Nox_ ,” Dru says in their brief pause. They are cast into pitch darkness as they both begin to stumble blindly towards the exit, slamming into corners and each other until their eyes adjust enough to the darkness. As they reach the doorway they both freeze. Filch stands in one half of the wide doorway, his eyes beady eyes searching the darkness for the cause off the racket. Dru stands, paralysed, until Harry tugs on her sleeve and pushes her forward a little, reminding her silently that he can't see them. They duck under his arm and into the corridor beyond, barely daring to breathe, and once they've crept round the corner they break out into a dead sprint, moving as fast as they can manage until they cannot breathe. They pause for breath near a suit of armour, trying to stay quiet as they catch their breath under the cloak.

“Do you know where we are?” Harry breathes in between gasps.

Dru shakes her head, then remembers it's hard to see her when they're both under the cloak. “No,” she whispers back. “I don't go this far up in the castle unless I need to. Live in the dungeons, remember?”

Harry starts to reply, but two other voices cut through the night.

“You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library- Restricted Section.”

Dru pales again and grabs at Harry's arm, panicked. Filch is much closer than they had thought. Just to make things a little bit worse, it is Snape's voice that responds to Filch, and as he speaks they round the corner, stopping not more than five feet from where the pair stand hidden under the invisibility cloak. Dru's eyes widen in fear. If he catches her hiding like this, especially with Harry, he'll tell Uncle Lucius, and that wouldn't end well for anyone. Harry grabs her hand in fear, and Dru can feel the sweat on his palms as he stares at Snape.

“The Restricted Section? They can't be far. We'll catch them.”

Harry is frozen in fear, but Dru's mind is racing. The corridor they're stood in is far too narrow for Snape and Filch to pass without noticing them, and the only option she can see is a door that stands slightly ajar to their left. She tugs on Harry's hand and coaxes him along with her. They squeeze through it, praying that they won't move it, and eventually both of them fit through. Huddling close, they watch as Snape and Filch _finally_ move off down the corridor, looking for them.

Dru shrugs off the cloak after another few moments and sighs in relief, looking around at the room that has saved them. Harry throws the cloak off and slumps to the floor. They are in a very dusty, clearly abandoned classroom; old, broken desks and chairs are stacked up against two off the walls. All in all, there must be hundreds of these old rooms in the castle, Dru surmises, but what makes this classroom interesting is the enormous mirror that leans up against the far wall. It stands floor-to-ceiling, with a faded golden frame and two clawed feet that seem to bite into the stone. The letters _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_ are carved into the top in neat, spidery calligraphy. Harry's panic appears to have abated, as he stands, leaving the cloak behind him, and steps alongside her to admire it.

Dru takes a step closer to it, wondering why it is kept in this room, of all places. There are people stood behind her in her reflection, and she jumps and turns round, but the room's empty apart from Harry, who's looking at her, confused.

“What?”

“Nothing, I.... nothing,” Dru says, turning back to the mirror.

She's reflected in the dirty glass, pale-faced and wide-eyed, her brows furrowed a little in confusion, but Harry isn't. In his place stands a woman- she doesn't look very old, and after a moment she lays her hand on Dru's shoulder, but Dru feels reassured, rather than frightened. The woman has skin as pale as Dru's and an angular face with sharp cheekbones. She looks a bit like Aunt 'Cissa, and her hair is identical to Dru's- uncontrollable dark curls tumbling loosely around her face. Her robes are dark- they might be black, but Dru can't tell for sure- and her eyes are warm and inviting. She smiles broadly at Dru, squeezing her shoulder. Dru swears for half a second that she can feel the pressure, and then her mind finally puts two and two together.

“Mother?” she asks, hardly daring to breathe the word at the glass. The woman gives her a tiny nod, smiling warmly at her daughter. Dru's breath catches in her chest at the sight, and she slides her gaze across the mirror to the figure at the other side.

On the other side of her stands a handsome young man. His hair is the same colour black as Harry's but it hangs loose around his shoulders, and his eyes are a carbon copy of her own, right down to the same shade of brown- logically, this should be her father. He's not quite as angular as her mother, but he's still very slim. If anything, though, this seems to heighten his grace rather than hinder it. He's wearing dark robes, too, and a strange warmness fills his eyes as he looks at Dru; he doesn't smile, but he has no need to. Dru realises her eyes must be just as expressive, and smiles without meaning to. Her mother grins back at her, encouraging her to ask.

“Father?” she asks, a little louder this time, more confidently. He nods curtly back at her, and then an impish half-smile twists his lips, making him look even more dashing.

Taken aback, Dru looks at herself in comparison to her parents for the first time. Clearly, she has her mother's hair, and she thinks her face, too- the shape looks more like her mother's than her father's. However, she has her father's lips and his eyes, as well as his expressive nature. Her mother has the same button nose as her; Dru is almost sad for a moment, as her father has an attractive roman nose, but she grins as she realises that her button nose probably fits her face better. Her parents smile back at her, her mother's hand still resting lightly on her shoulder. Dru puts her hand there, expecting to feel skin, but touches nothing but cold cloak. Her smile falters for a moment and she remembers Harry.

He's watching her with a concerned expression as she turns to him. “Harry, I can see my parents in this. I don't know how- I've never met them before- but I know it's them. I can see them. Look!”

She drags him closer, in front of the mirror, to show him her parents, watching him to gauge his reaction. His face goes from curious to shocked, and then his gaze turns hungry and he stares avidly into the glass. She's about to ask what he sees, and then he speaks.

“Dru, I see my family. Mum and dad... and my grandparents...” he trails into silence and presses his nose against the glass, staring at people Dru cannot see.

“This has to be a magical mirror,” murmurs Dru. “It shows people their family.”

“I think so,” whispers Harry back, his gaze fixed firmly on the people inside the reflection Dru will never see.

“I wish we could stay forever.”

“We'll come back,” Harry replies, finally tearing himself from the mirror to look at her. His eyes are bright and green and wild and so alive, and yet there's a haunting lonely sadness that Dru knows is mirrored in her own. “We'll come back.”

The deal is settled on their journey back to the Slytherin common room that night, a hushed exchange that leaves both of them satisfied, for a time. Each night at ten, Harry arrives at the Slytherin common room to Dru sitting outside in the reading nook, usually pretending to read a book. They sneak to the mirror, barely speaking; they just take turns sitting in front of it. When it's Dru's turn to wait, she watches Harry's face as he stares at his parents, wondering if seeing people she knows neither of them will ever get to meet is such a good idea. Then Harry tears himself from the mirror for her, and the prospect of seeing her mother and father lures her back every time.

The fourth night changes things. As they open the door silently and slide into the room, Dru catches Harry trying to go and sneak a glimpse of his family before her.

“You used it first yesterday!” she hisses at him. “It's _my_ turn.”

“If it wasn't for me you wouldn't even _get_ up here!”

“Really? Didn't you realise I've been wandering around after curfew since the third week of term? If it's such a problem don't bring me next time,” she snaps, crossing the room and shoving her friend in the chest, hard. He stumbles back and something flashes in his eyes.

“Maybe I won't!” he says, going to push her back.

Dru opens her mouth to snap at him again, but something moving in the mirror catches her eye. She stops shoving at Harry and turns to the mirror. He shoves her shoulder hard, trying to continue the fight, but she grabs his arm and points at the mirror.

“No, look.”

Around the two actually present in the room stand three people. They all look like they are the same age as Harry and Dru- Dru doesn't think they'd be anything older than second year. All of them have Hogwarts uniforms on. There's a girl and two boys- one of the boys is a Ravenclaw, and the other is a Gryffindor; the girl is a Slytherin. Dru mistakes the other girl for herself for a moment as they look incredibly similar, then notices her eyes are green. Upon closer observation, the other Slytherin girl's face is too round to be hers. The Ravenclaw boy has similar hair to Harry, but his face is much thinner than her friend's, and his eyes are brown, not green. The other Gryffindor boy would be an exact replica of Harry, but his hair is curlier than Harry's, rather than simply being messy. He also has the same brown eyes as the Ravenclaw's, and he wears rectangular glasses.

“Can you... see them?” Dru asks hesitantly.

“The other students?” Harry nods. “Yeah, I see them. Who are they?”

“I think it's gone weird. Did we break it?”

“ _Can_ we break it?” Harry asks.

“It's not broken,” another voice adds behind them. “Confused, perhaps. But not broken.”

Harry and Dru whirl around and freeze to the stop as they see Professor Dumbledore, perching lightly against one of the aged tables. His eyes glitter in the moonlight, and his beard is bleached ghastly white against his robe. Dru feels Harry relax as he notices the headmaster, but Dru tenses up. Harry notices and squeezes her hand in support, and she feels a little better. Maybe he'll be nicer to her if he knows she and Harry are friends. She certainly feels safer around Dumbledore in a Gryffindor's presence, anyway.

“W-we didn't see you, sir,” Harry mutters after a moment.

“Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you,” says Dumbledore, his smile widening. “So you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the Mirror of Erised.”

“We didn't know it was called that, sir.”

“But I expect you've realised by now what it does?”

Dru swallows, then speaks. “It- well- it shows us our families-”

Dumbledore seems to cringe as Dru speaks, though his smile doesn't falter.

“Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror; that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?”

Harry thinks for a moment, but Dru shifts uncomfortably under Dumbledore's gaze, still clutching Harry's hand tightly.

“It shows us what we want,” Harry thinks aloud, “whatever we want...?”

“Yes and no,” Dumbledore says. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts. You two, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Someone such as Ronald Weasley may, for example, see himself as better than all his brothers, who he feels have overshadowed him- if you do not mind my saying. However, this mirror will give us neeither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.” He stands and takes a step closer to the two of them, looking over his glasses seriously.

“Tomorrow the mirror shall be moved to a new home, and I ask you both to not go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and escort Miss Gaunt back to her dormitory, Harry?”

“Sir- Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?” Harry's voice is apprehensive as he looks up at the old man.

“Obviously, you've just done so,” he smiles warmly. “You may ask me one more thing, however.”

“What do you see when you look in the Mirror?”

“I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woollen socks.”

Harry and Dru stare, Dru stifling a laugh- he has to be lying, she thinks.

“One can never have enough socks,” Dumbledore says in answer to their silent question. “Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't even get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books. Now, off you go. Your beds await.”

Harry throws the cloak over them both and they leave the room, heading swiftly back down to the dungeons in silence. As they reach the first floor of the building, Dru finally speaks.

“Liar,” she mutters. “Socks? Really? Who'd believe that?”

“It was a personal question,” Harry says defensively. “I shouldn't have asked.”

“I don't like him,” Dru says.

“It shows,” says Harry.

Dru lapses back into silence again; she has nothing else to say, and she feels as though something is weighing on her shoulders. Her mind plays over seeing her parents and then the strange children in the mirror. An uneasy feeling settles in her stomach, as though she were flying a broom high in the air and had suddenly dropped into a dive. She swallows and keeps moving quietly.

“Is it just me, or do you feel odd?” Harry asks at the top of the stairs to the dungeons.

“Odd how?” Dru replies, feeling relief wash over her.

“Like you're falling, but not. Kind of like- diving a broom?”

“I thought it was just me. I don't know why. I don't like it.”

“No, it feels weird. Well... we're here. I doubt we'll get to see each other this much when our other friends come back to school, will we?”

Dru steps out from the cloak and shakes her head. “No, probably not.”

“It's been- nice. To have a friend who's not a Gryffindor.”

“It's been nice to spend time with you, too. I guess I'll see you in Potions. Goodnight, Potter.”

“Night, Dru,” she hears Harry say. She might just be being hopeful, but she swears she heard regret in his voice, and then she hears his footsteps back down the corridor. She shoves the candlestick back a little too hard, and walks into the common room running her hands through her hair, lost in thought.

“Good evening, Miss Gaunt! My, you're out and about late. Did you have a pleasant walk?”

 


	11. Merlin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three months later, we finally have a let-up from the work and can upload! We're so sorry it's taken so long. This time of year is hard work for both of us. Enjoy, and we'll be back to regular updates REALLY soon- I finish uni for the year in a few weeks! -Liss x

Dru wakes on the last day of the Christmas break to a loud crash from just outside her curtain. Leaping back in the bed, she shoves the curtain aside, terrified for a single moment there is a poltergeist in her room, then determined to curse the idiot who thought scaring her like that would be a good idea. She looks around warily, grabbing at her wand on her bedside table, and then glances down. Surprisingly enough, she is faced with a sheepish-looking Purly, who stands at the centre of a chaotic pile of books askew around her.

“Purly hopes Mistress Gaunt can find it in her heart to forgive Purly, but the books Master Draco sent Purly with are very heavy for such frail arms.”

“Is he here yet?” Dru asks instantly, her anger forgotten. She has missed her brother.

“Master Draco shall arrive shortly. Master told me to come to you after Master and Mistress Malfoy took him to the train. He said they must not know of Purly's journey to the castle, and they must not under _any_ circumstance know of the books he stole.”

“Oh, brilliant, Draco!” she says to herself, reaching for one of the books. “Thank you,” she directs at Purly after a moment.

“Mistress is most welcome,” Purly says, beaming so hard her bulbous eyes squeeze shut. “Might I ask Mistress to order Purly back? Purly will be punished...”

“Yes, yes. Off you pop,” Dru says without thinking, then smirks at her own dire pun as Purly literally pops away.

As excited as Dru is by the arrival of new books, she stops herself from searching through them until Draco is actually here. He sent these books because he found useful things in them, so he'll be able to point any interesting things out when everyone arrives at Hogwarts once again, rather than she scouring them for hours to find the same things. Dragging herself from her bed, she pulls on a dressing gown over her black silk pyjamas, double checks Lilith is asleep in her tank, and heads to the common room.

Merlin sits comfortably in his armchair. Today, he is not reading, simply sitting, watching through the glass as the Giant Squid floats lazily around. Dru waves at it as she crosses to the platter of food that awaits her for her late breakfast. It blinks at her and then a tentacle snakes its way across the glass.

“Good morning, Merlin!” she says, a bubble of positivity in her chest that she can't quite hide.

Merlin smiles at her warmly. “Good morning, Miss Gaunt! The Hogwarts Express is on its way, and is due to arrive at Hogsmeade Station at 6:45pm. The carriages will come back to the castle at 7pm, and the welcome feast is at 8:15pm sharp, with food being served at 8:30. Is this suitable for you?”

Dru is busy piling bacon onto a doorstep slice of bread, so she has to ask Merlin to repeat himself once he's caught her attention. When he has, she shrugs. “That sounds fine, thanks,” she says, making herself a mug of tea from the steaming jug of water standing to one side of all the food. “It'll be weird having everyone back again. I like having so much space.”

The giant squid seems to nod its agreement, one big eye looking into the common room curiously, as if judging the space. Dru wonders if it's thinking about whether it would fit.

“Fat chance,” she mutters to herself, turning with her tea and bacon sandwich to face Merlin.

He's standing at his bookshelves, looking intently at titles. “Yes, the space is curious. It does make me miss the days when the common room would be full. Alas, that is no longer the case...” he trails into silence, clearly thinking aloud rather than directly talking to Dru.

“Wait. Merlin, how long have you sat outside the common room?”

Merlin turns in a whirl of robes with a book in his hand and frowns, thinking. “Why... well, I do believe that my original portrait- the one outside the common room, that is- was painted in the fine year of nine-hundred. So I should say a few hundred years, to say the least.”

Dru does the subtraction in her mind, adding an extra year just to be on the safe side, and then pales as she realises just how old Merlin's portrait really is. “Merlin, your portrait has been here for... over a thousand years?!”

“Has it?” He settles on his very comfortable armchair, mouthing numbers to himself. “Ah. So it has, Miss Gaunt! Well, a happy millenium to me!”

Dru crosses the room to one of the low loveseats by the fire and looks up at Merlin, who is looking intently at the book's cover, still clearly thinking about the time he's spent in a portrait. She takes a bite of her sandwich, thinking rapidly. “Did you know any other Gaunts?”

“Gaunts? Yes, I have met some of the Gaunt family. Proud, and strong. You live up to your name.”

“I do?” Dru looks up at the old man in the portrait. “That's if I'm even a Gaunt.”

“I wouldn't know,” says Merlin, though something about his tone of voice makes Dru think he's lying to her. “I don't doubt your claim to the bloodline, not as I've seen some of the other students do. It was never like that, not in my day-”

“Do you remember... every student, then?” Dru cuts in, to stop him complaining about the past any longer.

“Every Slytherin student? I could possibly, if you gave me enough time to recall them beyond their name, and some I should think would only be a name, nothing more. And then there are the students whose faces I doubt I could remove from my mind's eye, even if I tried...”

“Students like who?” Dru asks, unable to contain her curiosity.

“There was Muldoon, always so good at debating, that one, had the entire common room in uproar at least four times a year... Adalbert Waffling, of course, Stroulger... ever the inventive boy, he was; Hesper Starkey, such a beautiful young girl, the Potions queen, as so many of us are... Merwyn the Malicious, he was one I shan't forget...and then of course the Riddle boy, but...” Merlin trails off and shuts his mouth abruptly. “But that's enough of that. I've no doubt there will be names among you whose faces I will remember for another millenium, eh?”

Dru nods and then looks at her food, sick of not knowing about her own heritage. She wonders why the 'Riddle boy' was so important- the name doesn't sound familiar to her, and Merlin pulled a face that was almost fearful as he spoke it. Then she realises her bacon is getting cold, and resolves to wonder about it later; she has to get ready before her friends and her brother get back to the school. She hopes her brother has found something on her family, or parseltongue- or both.

When she moves to get out of the bath she hears noises in the dormitory outside. She casts a charm at her hair to dry it, then dresses quickly in her school robes ready for the feast. When she does finally leave the bathroom, an excited squeal greets her, and then she finds someone hugging the life out of her. That someone is swiftly revealed to be Pansy, as she squeaks excitedly into Dru's ear, still squeezing her tightly.

“Dru! I've missed you!”

“You too, Pans, but could you- ugh- get off, I need to breathe!” she says, swatting at her friend light-heartedly as she lets her go and steps back.

“Was it fun here? I almost wished I'd stayed behind with you, but on Boxing Day Mother took me to look at Yazamah's new robe range, and... well,” she says, twirling. Her robe is a stunning royal purple.

“It's beautiful!” Dru says with a grin, turning to the others. “Hey everyone.”

A chorus of hellos is echoed back at her as Dru goes to her bed, freshly made by the house-elves while she was bathing. She has no doubt that they'll be cleaning the bathroom while it's empty now. Dru crosses the dorm to her trunk and digs out a comb, then collapses onto Lissa's bed. Liss just grins at her.

“Hi, Dru. Enjoy Christmas?”

“It was good,” she says, dragging the comb through a particularly troublesome knot. “You?”

“It was nice, I guess. I missed the muggle world, but I dunno... I felt a bit... out of place? I dunno, I just feel like I don't know enough about anything to fit in anywhere. It's stupid.”

“It's not stupid,” Daphne volunteers from where she's hunting through her trunk for something. “I know I'd find it hard.”

“So would I,” agrees Dru. “You're getting better every day, though. You'll fit right in in no time, I bet.”

Lissa offers her a small smile. “Thanks. I don't know how I'd have coped without you guys.”

They have roughly an hour before the feast, so they spend it discussing their holidays and what they did- Daphne entertains them all with tales of yet more Quidditch practice in the gardens of her home, and the girls announce that they've agreed to let Millicent back into the group publicly, as well as privately. Eventually, Dru looks over to Pansy's clock and sighs.

“We're going to be late if we don't leave now. Come on, let's go.”

They tumble out of the dormitory in a heap of laughter and chatter, and despite having to adjust to the common room being full of people once more, Dru can't help but be glad everyone's back. As the girls enter the common room, the boys are already stood waiting for them. Dru's heart lifts as she sees her brother, and when the others break into animated discussions as they leave the common room, they hang a few paces behind them to talk a little more privately. When Dru looks over at Draco, he's staring at the floor.

“Thanks for the books,” she says. “Purly brought them earlier.”

“Yes, well, I hope that makes up for whatever made you break my nose,” he mutters back quietly. “And for not coming home with me; and for not apologising to me.”

She feels guilty after that, so she doesn't bring it up again, instead speeding up slightly to catch up with the rest of their group. That evening, she writes to Narcissa, asking if she will send her something to cheer Draco up. When the parcel arrives a few mornings later in the post, there are a few pieces for Draco and a beautiful new quill for Dru, but even her Aunt's words seem cold in her reply. Dru had thought the Malfoys would be happier without her at Christmas, but it seems that her brother and aunt, at least, are unhappy with her decision.

That night Dru takes Draco's gifts to his dormitory. She's fairly sure he's in there; the only two who are not are Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom are still eating in the Great Hall. She knocks on his door firmly, feeling weirdly anxious over whether he will forgive her or not.

“Crabbe, Goyle, how many times have we told you- you don't have to- oh! Dru!” Blaise breaks off his speech to grin at her. “I didn't expect you. Or any girls, actually.”

“Clearly not. Are Crabbe and Goyle _still_ knocking every time they want to come in, then?”

Blaise grimaces. “Yes.”

“Oh, _Merlin_. Maybe they'll learn by seventh year... is my brother here?”

“Draco, you've got a vistor,” Blaise says, swinging the door open wider to allow her to enter.

Draco is sat on his bed cross-legged, staring intently at their charms book, pieces of parchment scattered in front of him. When he looks up and spots Dru, he sighs.

“You're not supposed to be in here,” he tells her, scooping the parchment together to make space for her on the bed.

“I know for a fact nobody pays attention to those rules. Especially not me,” she says, rolling her eyes and climbing gracefully onto the bed. She looks around curiously- this is only the second time she's ever been into the boys' dormitory, and she's interested. It becomes clear after a few moments that their dorm is identical to the girls' dormitory- Draco has what is Pansy's bed, whilst Blaise has what is her own. “I came to apologise properly. And I brought you something to say sorry, too. So... sorry.”

“Money doesn't _always_ buy my forgiveness, dear sister,” Draco quips with a smirk, and Dru knows she's forgiven. He takes the parcel and opens it; he has two Chocolate Frogs, some Bertie Botts jellybeans, and a new set of gloves for the cold made out of a lovely Norwegian Ridgeback hide. “These are lovely, thank you... but I still want to know _why_ you hit me with that stirring rod, and _why_ you didn't bother going home. Mother was devastated, you know, and not having an explanation made it that much worse!”

Dru shifts uncomfortably where she's sitting and glances at the others. Blaise reads her gaze instantly and calls Nott over to ask him about their charms work, to give her some privacy.

“I thought you'd have a better Christmas without me imposing.”

“ _Imposing_?!” Draco says incredulously. “You _live_ there. You're my sister.”

“I felt like I wasn't welcome, alright? But I know I was wrong now, and I really am sorry I've upset you and Aunt 'Cissa. I'm not sorry for breaking your nose, though,” she says.

“Figures,” mutters Draco grouchily.

“I don't care if what you said was aimed at Potter, you upset me, too.”

“But you _are_ wanted at home.”

“It didn't feel like it at the time. Anyway, can we forget about all that?”

Draco looks at her and then nods. “Okay. I forgive you.”

“And?”

“And what?” he asks, genuinely confused.

Dru rolls her eyes. She's never going to get him to apologise for what he said to Harry, or for upsetting her, because he's not all bad, but he's still a tool. “Nothing, forget it.”

“I don't suppose I'll have any say there,” Draco says, finally shutting his charms book. “So, what _really_ brought you in here?”

“I wanted to ask about what you found. Didn't want to start looking aimlessly.”

“Oh, right. They repeat themselves quite a lot, but some of them have some extra useful information. Hmm... here,” he says, picking up a scrap of parchment and scrawling something across it. “ _The Dark Myths of the Wizarding World-”_

Dru yelps as the book in question starts slamming repeatedly into the sides of her bag, making Blaise and Nott look over at her, bemused. “You could have just _asked_ if I _have_ it,” she growls, opening her bag so the book can fling itself happily into Draco's waiting hands.

“Sorry... anyway, some old coot wrote this years back. Most of it's bonkers, mind you, but he did mention _something_ about the sort of thing you were asking about,” he says, glancing over at Blaise and Theo, who are both listening in after hearing Dru's yelp of fright.

“You'd better know where it is in the book, after all this...”

“Are you two giving yourselves more homework than we already get?” Theo asks, looking confused.

“Nothing to do with you, Theo, go back to your charms,” Dru says dismissively. She doesn't really get on with him all that well, but she's not prepared to start a rift in the group over it. To her satisfaction, he does as she says, and a moment later, Blaise follows suit.

“Here,” Draco says, dumping the book into Dru's lap.

The two-page spread set in front of her is entitled _Hogwarts,_ but Draco's finger rests on a subtitle- _The Chamber of Secrets_. Underneath it is an ancient list of parselmouths, though the book is too old to have any relevance to modern day bloodlines.

“This is a list of speakers,” she murmurs, stroking the words on the page.

“Look at this,” Draco says, pointing to the paragraph above the list.

  
  


_The Chamber of Secrets_

_Amongst the students of Hogwarts therein is told a legend the like of which hath no comparison, though there may be little truth (if any at all) behind the story itself. According to this legend, Salazar Slytherin, in his wisdom, saw fit to construct a hidden chamber, secreted away from the other founders, known only to himself. This chamber is known, fairly enough, as the Chamber of Secrets. If it exists at all, nothing is known about it beyond the very rumour of its existence and a name, though it is true that many have tried and failed to find it and the rumoured treasures and wisdom within, and many of the people who have tried to find it argue that their failings lay in the very fact that they do not speak parseltongue, as Slytherin, a proficient speaker of the snake-tongue, would have been likely to conceal his hidden chamber with a language that was fading. Even in Slytherin's time, only the purest of the bloodlines were still able to speak to snakes, and it can be believed that if Slytherin did create a chamber, he would have left it for only the purest of his descendants to find once he was gone._

  
  


Dru's blood runs cold as she remembers the day in the toilets before the troll arrived. Of course, she'd not been stupid enough to jump down that stupid tunnel, but... could that be it? Had she found the Chamber? She shakes her head derisively as her brother looks up.

“Well, I'm not going to look for secret chambers. Old Slytherin wasn't known for his good nature.”

“Yes,” Draco agrees. “But look, here, it goes on to say only dark wizards can do it. Apparently- well, according to this, anyway... there's never been a witch or wizard in history that could speak it and was good.”

“I am not evil,” she snaps indignantly.

“I was just saying what the book said!” Draco protests.

“You'd better have been.”

“You realise threatening people's not exactly nice, right?” he asks, but he's smiling, and Dru's grinning back.

“Point taken, but I'm not evil. And this doesn't tell me anything about the Gaunt name. Fairytales are very nice, Draco, but I want to know about my family. I want facts.”

“I found a lot on them- I sent you every book they're mentioned in- but I didn't find anything on their family in the past... I'd say hundred years, or so?”

“That ties in with what I found. According to the Hogwarts book I got, the last Gaunt died in the 1940's...”

“I looked into the Malfoy family tree to see if we ever had any links with them. I didn't find any Gaunts tied in directly- I could only look at the records made since the 19th century, mind you, Father has the earlier ones in his office- but... I did find a woman called Druella Rosier who married Cygnus Black. I never knew Grandmother's maiden name- but here's where it gets interesting. On the family tree they had three children, not two.”

“ _Three_? But I thought it was just Bellatrix and Aunt 'Cissa.”

“No, apparently there's another aunt. Her name was faded badly, but I _think_ I read it right. She's called Andromeda, from what I could gather.”

“She must have died.”

“No, they don't cross the name out if they die, they put the little Christianity crosses next to them, and the year they died. Anyway... I think she left. That spell was cast, anyway, it has to have been. Pavo's name was like it, too.” Draco looks at the covers sadly.

Dru frowns and tries to ignore the surge of pain at the mention of their older brother. She refuses to let herself be sad about it. “So she left the family.”

“She must have.”

Dru closes the book gently and lays it on the bed, sighing as she looks down at it. She hasn't exactly got the information she wanted to hear, but she's discovered at least that her dreadful first name is a namesake- she's named after her grandmother.

“Do you think Bellatrix decided on Druella?” she asks after a moment, looking up at Draco desperately.

“I think she must. Her name's your middle name, after all.”

“But _why_ would she call me Gaunt?” Dru demands, frustrated. “Her husband is Lestrange, Bellatrix was born a Black, there's no need for them to change it! By all accounts I should be a Lestrange! There _has_ to be a link to the Gaunt name _somewhere_ , for Merlin's sake. I can speak parseltongue, and if I'd got that from Bellatrix, you'd be able to as well!”

“Wait. You speak _parseltongue_?” Blaise asks in surprise. Dru grits her teeth and curses internally- in her moment of rage, she'd forgotten entirely that Nott and Zabini were still in the room with them.

“Don't tell anyone,” she says. “Or I'll put you both in St. Mungos permanently.”

“I don't doubt it, either,” says Theo as Blaise just nods and returns to his book. Dru ignores him and turns back to her brother.

“Maybe you're looking at the wrong side of the family. You know nothing about the Lestranges, after all.”

“I feel like I'd have already come across the link somewhere while looking parseltongue up, you know? But none of the books mention any _modern_ links except with the Gaunts.”

“They could be linked to the Gaunts, you never know! If Bellatrix is as insane as Mother says she is, she might just have decided to name you Gaunt because she preferred how it sounded rather than Lestrange, especially if the families are connected.”

Dru sighs, knowing Draco has a point, but still feeling like she's missing something important. She nods after another moment, deciding it is probably better to look into it rather than leave any stone unturned.

“You're right. I'll have to look into it. Thanks, Draco. I'm going to go back to my dorm now. I'll see you in the morning.” She scoops her book back into her bag and leaves quietly. When she gets back to her own dorm room, Pansy and Daphne are sat reading this week's _Witch Weekly_ by the fire, Tracey and Millicent are both looking through the same charms book that the boys were poring over, and Lissa is finishing off an essay, her terrible handwriting looking worse than usual as she glares at Pansy and Daphne every time they giggle. Dru doesn't bother talking, just dumps her books in the research pile, changes into her pyjamas and gathers Lilith from her tank. Lilith stretches luxuriously in her hands as Dru climbs onto her bed, then slithers around her fingers.

“ _Wondering where you went_. _Have been very silent_ ,” Lilith says accusingly. “ _Bored of the cage, want to see the grass and find my own food sometimes_.”

“ _Sorry, Lilith_ ,” Dru murmurs to her snake quietly. “ _I'll take you to the lake this weekend_.”

Lilith twists and looks at Dru. If she had eyebrows, Dru thinks, she'd be raising one at her critically. “ _Good. Or I shall tell these others you deprive me of bacon._ ”

Dru doesn't know whether to be worried or not until she hears Lilith's telltale papery laugh, then she smirks at her pet. “ _You'll do no such thing, little one. I'll take you to the lake this weekend. You can explore_.”

“ _Excellent. Will grow big, strong. Learn to hunt my own food. Maybe even bacon?_ ” Lilith asks hopefully.

“ _Bacon is not an animal_ ,” laughs Dru. “ _At least, not one you can hunt_.”

“ _Shame_ ,” Lilith says distractedly, slithering across the bed. “ _That way, I could have bacon and not have to tell the other that likes me_.”

“ _Honestly, you're impossible! I might give you bacon as a treat next time I feed you_. _But I have to sleep now. We can talk more tomorrow._ ”

“ _Yes, sleep would be good. Make me big, strong. I shall eat everything._ ”

Dru puts Lilith back into her tank gently, and then climbs into bed herself, sending a warm smile towards her pet. That night, Dru's dreams are filled with talking snakes and the airy, light-filled gardens of Malfoy Manor.

-

Dru has very little free time once lessons begin. Snape, true to his word, instigates her post-Christmas detentions with full force, and she's tied to his classroom on behalf of other Professors three nights out of five a week. She had been hoping that she would be let off lightly again, but it turns out that Snape has decided enough is enough. She is put to work cleaning cauldrons, bottling ingredients, labelling _everything_ and reorganising his supply cupboard. It eats into so much of her time that she barely sees her friends, and she decides that once her detentions finish, she will actually behave in lessons. Because she is so busy, she and Draco decide to make a routine out of their research. Every Thursday after their Transfiguration lessons they head straight to the library to search.

They look for the same books they have already checked once and go through them again, looking for the Lestrange bloodline, instead of the Gaunt. They manage to gather a minimal amount of detail from the last three generations, though there's no link to the Gaunts that they can clearly spot. They don't leave the library till dinner, and Dru is usually too preoccupied to eat much, picking at platefuls of food and tuning out entire conversations around her. She knows she's becoming obsessed when Pansy actually tries to hide the books Draco sent her from the Malfoy library, but Dru doesn't know what else she can do except keep looking, and she's not one to admit defeat.

A surprising answer comes in the form of Blaise Zabini one evening, as they sit by the fireplace, staring over the common room and down into the lake. The others are all in the dorms, working on their Potions essay, but Blaise and Dru have already finished theirs, and Dru is enjoying a rare moment of time to herself instead of working on homework or in the supply cupboard.

“You're too stubborn,” he says out of the blue. He's got his eye on the grindylows by the windows, but his feigned disregard is something Dru sees straight through- he knows something she doesn't, and he's about to let her in on the secret. “And you're looking in all the wrong places.”

“Am I?” she asks, raising a brow at him.

He turns to her at last and nods. “Haven't you thought about asking one of the ghosts? Some of them have been around for centuries, and they have really long memories- surely they'll know _something_ about the Gaunts.”

Dru doesn't bother mentioning that she's looking into the Lestrange family now, but she does realise that he has a very good point. A whole new world of opportunity opens itself to her. She takes to following the Bloody Baron; eventually asking him about it when she's sure he's sick of finding her three paces behind him. He's seen many generations of the Lestrange family, but confirms she's the only Gaunt he's seen for a long time. She leaves him deflated- and then ends up in a foul mood after she earns herself yet another detention for turning up to her Flying class late. That evening, after dinner, everyone is lounging in the common room in their familiar spot by the fire in a rough circle; Lissa, for once on the loveseat instead of the floor, is sitting with Pansy, browsing through _Witch Weekly_ , Daphne, Millicent and Tracey are talking about hair potions for shine and volume, and the boys- as always- are in an in-depth discussion about Quidditch. Dru and Draco sit on two beanbags, talking about second year Quidditch possibilities, until Draco quietly changes the subject.

“I know you're going to refuse, but I was thinking maybe we could ask Mother-”

“No,” Dru says, almost choking on her pumpkin juice. “Are you _mad_? Don't you remember what they did when I asked?”

“No...?” Draco says, looking over at her. “I didn't realise you had.”

“I was six, I wanted to know why I had to call them Aunt and Uncle, and then obviously, I asked about my parents, because that's only logical. Lucius beat me with a slipper so hard I could barely sit for a week and I wasn't allowed to sit at dinner that night or the next, and they wouldn't let me play with you or Pav. I was just stuck in my room for about two weeks. They told Purly to take away my books, anything to write with, so all I could do was sit in my chair and do nothing.”

“Oh,” says Draco, looking shocked. “But- surely Mother will understand now you're older- they must know that you would want to know about your parents?”

“If they wanted me to know about them, they'd have told me by now.”

“Maybe your father was a muggle?” asks Draco, sounding desperate. Both of them are clutching at straws now.

Dru actually laughs. “Draco, my last name is _Gaunt_ \- and can you see _Bellatrix Lestrange_ having a baby with a muggle? _Really_?”

“Maybe she was really drunk?” suggests Draco.

“I think she'd probably have killed herself regardless if she'd done that,” Pansy supplies helpfully. It appears that- yet again- her conversation with her brother has caught the attention of their little group. Dru doesn't really mind, as she trusts everyone now, but she's still not sure that the whole house needs to know who her mother is, so she gestures for them all to stay relatively quiet.

“Why would she?” asks Lissa, looking a bit lost.

The group all shift uncomfortably. It's not like they're not good friends with Liss, because they are, and they would never cast her out for her blood status now, but sometimes her naivete reminds them sharply of their parents' opinions.

“Bellatrix is my mother, she's my Aunt 'Cissa's sister,” Dru replies. “She was one of the Dark Lord's most loyal followers- still is, really. Doesn't like muggleborn witches and wizards, basically,” she says, checking her words so as to not scare her friend. “She was carted off to Azkaban when I was two. That's why I live with Draco, because he's my cousin, and _that's_ why I don't know where Gaunt has come from.”

“Maybe your Dad's in Azkaban too?” Lissa says. “Is there a list of inmates anywhere- there could be a Gaunt.”

Dru shakes her head. “From what I found in the library, the Gaunts disappeared in the forties. I _think_ my father is her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, but I just... I don't understand why they would call me Gaunt.”

“Death Eaters are pretty proud of names and heritage, Dru, if you hadn't noticed,” says Pansy, “and Gaunt is a line as pure as they came, even if they were a bit insane towards the end.”

“Don't be all judgemental just because your parents never joined the cause, Pansy,” mumbles Draco.

“I'm not all high-and-mighty about that, Draco, my parents are ashamed of it. My Grandfather all but disowned them for it. I tell you, if he ever comes back, they'll be first in line- sorry, Lissa.”

“Yeah, right behind the Malfoys,” Dru says, shooting a glare at Draco to shut his protests up- he knows as well as she does that it's the truth. “Sorry, Lissa.”

Lissa has paled and is beginning to look rather worried, but she shakes her head. “It's fine. I'm going to go to bed.”

Lissa gets up and wanders off without another word. The group watch her leave guiltily, then turn to one another.

“You shouldn't have said that,” Blaise says at last. “It's not like Lissa doesn't work three times as hard as all of us to keep her respect up, the last thing she wants is to think that we're all going to be joining up to his cause if he comes back.”

Pansy swallows uneasily. “But he's not going to come back, and Lissa's still our friend. My parents got angry with me when I opened her present because she sent me muggle chocolate-”

“And me, too,” Dru chips in.

“-but I opened it anyway, because Lissa's my friend. Doesn't she understand it?”

Daphne frowns. “Being yelled at isn't the same as thinking your only friends are going to kill you because you're a muggleborn.”

The entire group shuts up after that, and they decide to go to bed shortly after. When Dru and Pansy go into the dorm, they find Lissa's curtains closed for the very first time that whole year, and the others can distinctly hear muffled crying. Pansy and Dru eye the curtains guiltily.

“Lissa?” Dru tries, gently.

“Go away.”

“Lissa, we're sorry,” she says.

“Go _away_!”

Dru gives up after that, and the evening is spent in silence. Dru pulls her curtains closed after a while as well. She doesn't know what to do, and she's confused and worried that she's just lost a friend, not to mention she's feeling decidedly useless about being unable to find anything on her family.

The feeling of dejection hangs over Dru's head for the next few weeks, and that feeling only gets worse when her research is forced to come to a halt. Easter's rapid approach means the professors are what Tracey calls 'homework-happy'- that is, they're piling more work on them than the first-year students have ever had to deal with before, and Dru spends most of her time working on essays. The only small bonus to this is that her detentions with Snape finally end, so she has a little more time to work instead of cleaning the classroom or reorganising the supply cupboard for the tenth time. Dru actually spends so much time working on essays in the library she's sick of the sight of books, and she gets to the point where she's so done with practising wand movements that the sight of her wand's irritating as well. She comments on more than one occasion to her dorm that she wishes she was a muggleborn, because at least then the prospect of magic would be new to her. After about the third time, Lissa- who hasn't spoken more than three words to Pansy and Dru since the awkward conversation- snaps.

“I actually can't sit an exam on magic. This is only the first year I've ever even known about magic. So no, Dru, you don't want to be a bloody muggleborn. Your friends want to kill you, and you have to sit exams on stuff you barely know. Now shut up, I'm revising.”

The whole dorm lapses back into silence. Dru is sick of silence; their whole group has felt tense and uncomfortable since the conversation.

“I'm sorry, Lissa,” Pansy says after another second. “We wouldn't just join up because our parents did. I don't think they're right, anyway; you're a good person, and you're muggleborn.”

Lissa doesn't say anything, just turns a page of her book.

“I'm with Pans, Liss... I'm sorry. Really. I like you, and my parents are both in Azkaban, so I don't have anything to do with them, so I don't have to agree with them. Besides, he can't come back, he's dead, he's really dead. Do you forgive us?”

Lissa looks up. “Yeah, I guess.”

“We're sorry. Hug?”

“You've said that, Pans,” says Lissa, swinging her legs clumsily off the bed and scampering across the dorm to launch herself at Pansy. Dru joins them when Lissa beckons her over; it only takes a few more moments before Daphne, Tracey and Millicent join them, and their messy group hug descends into a chaotic dance around the dorm, laughing.

As they readjust to term and the increased workload, the whole school once again builds up with a hum of excitement about Quidditch. This year, it seems that Gryffindor have a chance of overtaking Slytherin for the cup for the first time in seven years- but they have to beat Hufflepuff in their next match to succeed. It hardly surprises anyone that the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team are seen traversing the hallways in their Quidditch robes. Ninety percent of the times she spots Harry in the hallways he's shivering his way up the castle, drenched to the skin in the delightful rain that's replaced the snow.

“Have you heard Snape's refereeing the match on Saturday?” Nott asks Dru between mouthfuls of a chicken drumstick at dinner.

“No,” she says, feigning disinterest to have an excuse to return to her conversation with Pansy, Crabbe and Draco. However, as she takes bites of her chicken she feels a tiny bubble of happiness building inside her. Snape being the referee might just stop the Gryffindors from overtaking them on the leaderboard after all, though it's not exactly the best news for her proud lion friends.

Nott passes the news around the group as they stand to leave the Great Hall, at which all of them grin excitedly. Draco, ever the idiot, spots Longbottom as they leave.

“Watch this,” he tells them, smirking. “Hey, Longbottom!”

He turns round curiously to find the source of the shout just in time for Draco to lazily flick his wand at him.

“ _Locomotor Mortis_!” Draco drawls, smirking. Longbottom tumbles to the floor, his legs locked firmly together. Their little group titters as he struggles to right himself. “That's what Snape's going to do to your daft little team, you pathetic excuse for a Wizard. Honestly, you're more like a squib than a Gryffindor; I've never met anyone as cowardly.”

Dru thinks that's a bit rich coming from him, but she forces herself to laugh it off as Draco leads the way back down to the dungeons. It's not worth the hassle it would cause to defend him of all people, though she does wish she knew how to cast without speaking; she'd be able to silently undo the hex when Draco's back is turned. She sends him a sympathetic glance, though she doesn't expect him to understand the meaning behind the look. Then she follows her friends down into the dungeons.

-

Come Saturday, Dru wakes early with a pit of excitement bubbling in her stomach, which surprises her. She's not really bothered either way about the whole thing; if Gryffindor lose and Slytherin retain the Quidditch Cup, then great- and if not, then it will be nice to see her insufferable tool of a brother not get everything he wants for a change. She dismisses the thought that it might also be nice to see her Gryffindor friends celebrate a win as she climbs from bed and heads to the shower, grabbing a black skirt and white top to wear for the day. Of course that would be a ridiculous idea, not to mention she couldn't even be proud of Potter if he wins today- he's not even supposed to be on the team, for Merlin's sake.

The morning passes swiftly for them all, though breakfast is tense; the whole Hall crackles with anticipation. The Ravenclaws seem mostly interested in the Hufflepuffs rather than being excited about the game, and as Dru glances over to the table she realises they're all probably watching the house's interactions like some kind of experiment. There is a big group sitting at the end of the table, distancing themselves from the rest of their house and surreptitiously slipping money between themselves, and after a moment she concludes they're probably betting against their house in the upcoming game. Other than the strange betting Hufflepuffs, the Puffs and Gryffindors are exchanging friendly banter in big groups, but there's a strange alliance between them; as much as the houses all get along, when it comes to Quidditch, everyone wants to steal to top spot from Slytherin.

They all troop down to the stalls together, as always. Today, the Slytherins have ended up in the same stalls as some of the Gryffindors- and of course, of course, Dru thinks to herself as she clocks Hermione's hair while the others troop up the stairs behind her, they've managed to pick the one stall that holds the Gryffindors Draco will always pick a fight with.

The second Draco spots her sitting with Weasley and Longbottom, his entire demeanour shifts and a sinister gleam enters his eyes. He leads Crabbe and Goyle over to them, growing more arrogant with every step; Dru, Pansy and Millicent follow him, Dru mainly so she can stop her brother from hexing anyone again. She rolls her eyes as he stops and pokes Weasley in the back of his head.

“Oh, sorry, Weasley. Didn't see you there.” He smirks at Crabbe and Goyle who both grin nastily at him. “Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? How about you, Weasley?”

Weasley, to his credit, manages to stay relatively calm. Dru shoots him a sympathetic look, which he acknowledges with a nonchalant nod. Dru turns back to the game instead, trying to tune her pathetic brother out. Snape, it seems, has just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because one of the Weasley twins has launched a bludger in a Puff's direction.

“Snape's being too nice,” mutters Millicent to her. “He should knock points off for good measure.”

“I think he's doing his best, all things considered,” says Pansy, pointing up to the taller staff stands. “Dumbledore's here.”

Sure enough, there sits Dumbledore in the centre of the stand. Even from this distance, Dru thinks he looks smug as he peers intently over his half-moon glasses at the game. She scowls at him. She doesn't care too much about the cup, but she's angry that he showed his face at this of all games.

“He never comes to Quidditch games. He's only here to help Gryffindor take the lead- and you need all the help you can get, don't you Longbottom?” sneers Draco.

Longbottom ignores him, but his cheeks flush with anger.

Dru rolls her eyes again and turns to the game; her eyes are instantly drawn to Harry, the smallest player on the pitch. He's floating aimlessly, paying no heed to the other players or even the game itself as he watches for the snitch. Dru can almost hear his mantra from here as he hunts-

“You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?” Draco says as Snape awards Hufflepuff another penalty. “They give the places for people they feel sorry for! See- there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, they've got no money- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains!”

Dru's instant reaction is to clench her fists tightly in her long robe sleeves; it's not just Dru who's angered by this comment; Weasley has an expression that screams he'd like to break Draco's nose, and Longbottom's face is bright red. He turns to face Draco and forces himself to look her brother squarely in the eye.

“I'm- I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy!” he stammers.

Draco starts laughing so hard he actually doubles over; Crabbe and Goyle follow suit moments after. Pansy and Millicent giggle along as well, though it is clear they are more interested in the game. Dru simply tries to stop herself from breaking her brother's nose right there on the spot. She's bored of detentions, so she has to be good. Instead, she plots a way to get him back, wondering absently as she does whether or not there's a spell to Conjure frogs so she can put them in his bed.

“You tell him, Neville,” says Ron, but his eyes never once leave the game- for that matter, neither do Hermione's. While the others are distracted, she shuffles stealthily to Hermione's side. From the angle she's stood, it looks as though she's been jostled there by the crowd.

“You hate Quidditch,” she notes.

“We've brought our wands, we're protecting Harry.”

“You don't seriously still think Snape pulled that whole broom thing, do you? Come off it. I've known Snape my whole life, and I don't exactly want Harry in danger. If I thought he was behind this, I would've handled him by now.”

“Are you insinuating you can control Professor Snape?” sighs Hermione. “Please don't be offended, Dru, but I don't think even you could stop him. You wouldn't have any detentions, otherwise.”

“Fine, whatever,” she says. “If anyone but you had said that, Hermione, I'd have shoved them over the stands by now.”

“I know,” she says simply, but there's a tiny grin playing across her lips. Stupid Gryffindors.

“Look!” she yelps suddenly, pointing at the pitch. Dru follows her friend's gaze to find Harry nose diving towards the pitch. Dru's heart is suddenly in her throat and she grabs her sleeves in anxiety.

“You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!” her brother guffaws.

Dru snaps at that moment and turns to thump her brother- but Ron gets there first. He turns with a speed Dru's never seen from him before, launches himself over the benches and is wrestling Draco to the ground. The girls gasp, and Crabbe and Goyle attempt to tug him off, but Longbottom has already crawled over everyone else and is doing everything in his power to stop them.

“Get off him, you filthy Gryff!” snaps Pansy.

“Leave it, Pans,” chuckles Dru. After another second of thought she adds: “He could do with a good crack, if you ask me.”

“COME ON HARRY!” screams Hermione, dragging Dru's attention from the beating her brother is getting to the game once more.

Harry is nearing Snape- fast. Dru shoves past Hermione in an instant to the front of the stand, gripping the bar in front of her, trying to catch her breath enough to yell for him to slow down. He's going so fast that their unsuspecting Potions Professor must just see a rush of scarlet whip by his face, but when Harry finally slows, his arm is raised triumphantly and everyone can see the snitch glittering between his fingers in his fist.

The stands erupt; most students are roaring in triumph. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs surrounding them begin yelling about new records, or something- nobody could ever have caught a snitch this quickly, especially in unprofessional games! Hermione is shouting for Ron to tell him they won, dancing around in her seat and hugging one of the Patil twins- Dru thinks it's Parvati. She realises suddenly that her fingers are cramping because of her tight grip on the barricade, so she lets go and flexes them a bit to loosen them, but keeps her eyes locked on Harry as he jumps off his broom a few feet from the ground. Near him, Snape spits bitterly at the turf from his broom.

“I could kill him for that,” she breathes to Hermione as she turns back to her Slytherin friend. “Though he's more likely to kill himself first.”

“Us Gryffindors and our stupid bravery,” she giggles, red-faced with glee.

Dru has never seen her friend so happy, and for that alone, she's glad that Gryffindor won. Draco won't be happy either, which makes her smirk despite herself; she enjoys seeing him be disappointed, and after yet more of his comments about Harry having no parents, he thoroughly deserves it. And even better still- Ron appears to have battered Draco to the floor so hard he may even need a trip to the infirmary. Today, Dru concludes, has been a very positive day indeed!

 

  
  



	12. Ghostly Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so sorry. So much has happened in the past few months; we've barely had any time to write. Laura and I are both on summer break right now, so updates will hopefully come sooner rather than later! We hope you like this next update- this should be finished soon! Enjoy! -Liss x

Draco's trip to the infirmary provides Dru with a small moment of joy- the tool came back with a black eye in the end- but the brief respite the match provided once again disappears as exams begin to loom on the horizon. Dru hears other students worrying that they'll be kicked out of Hogwarts if they don't pass their tests during trips to the library for family research with her brother. She just wants to prove she's an adequate witch; she knows Snape believes in her, but her other teachers seem to think she's incompetent. Hermione has reminded her a few times that's probably because she skips so many lessons, and that's irritated her enough that she's determined to prove the professors wrong. The stress she's putting on herself combined with the growing desire to keep searching for her family is making her irritable and volatile, and she's snapped and sent some nasty hexes at people. In fact, only a little way into the spring term, Snape threatens to take her wand from her if her 'arrogance' continues. The Slytherins have entirely stopped challenging her, though she knows they still murmur about her blood purity behind her back. Even Sophie Roper, despite being hell bent on revenge for her soaking, has stopped sending dirty glares her way in case Dru sees her and takes offence.

Midway through the spring term, her little group of friends get some news that lifts everyone's mood. At breakfast, Daphne notices that the Gryffindor hourglass is no longer as full as Slytherin's, and as the day progresses, the news spreads rapidly round the school that the house lost one hundred and fifty points at the hands of Hermione, Harry and Ron.

“They were caught of bed after hours,” says Theo Nott, helping himself to stuffing and a thick slice of pork. “In the Astronomy Tower of all places.”

Dru remembers her Christmas sitting up there with Harry, and smiles to herself as she takes a bite of her chicken. “Idiots,” she makes herself say. “We have the lead again now though. We'll get the House Cup for sure.”

Pansy grins. “Of course it would be those three. Potter is far more trouble than he's worth; I'm glad he's not a Slytherin.”

“It's like he _actually enjoys_ being an idiot,” Draco says.

Dru keeps quiet. Part of her is sad that her friends' pride has been damaged, especially as it's what's important to them, but mostly she's glad that Slytherin have the lead for the Cup again. Her joy is short-lived though, as Draco really can't bring himself to drop it. He brings it back up again on the way to Potions the next morning.

“I told you- I _said_ they were planning something,” he drawls smugly as they head down to the classroom from the Great Hall.

“You might have _said_ that,” Dru snaps, mimicking her brother's tone, “but all I heard was 'look at how obsessed with Potter I am'! Anyone would think you were still sore after he rejected you.”

“It was about the dragon,” Draco insists as their friends all smile at Dru's comment.

“Apparently, they made that bit up to fool you,” Blaise chortles as they reach the door.

“They did not!” he snaps as they take a seat, but he's not smiling anymore and his cheeks are pink.

Dru smiles at her brother's embarrassment, although she knows it is harsh. From nowhere, she remembers the start of the year, and is even more glad she's capable of giving her brother the snark he deserves without fear of retribution. And then she remembers again that Draco has a detention for his obsession with getting the trio in trouble, too, and smiles wider.

“You're happy today Dru,” Pansy comments.

“Mmm,” she says nonchalantly, flicking through her notes to find the recipe for the potion she and Pansy were trying to make a week ago.

Just at that point, Harry stumbles into the room followed by a stream of muttered insults from his peers, and the smile on Dru's face vanishes instantly. Since the news broke, he's been the target of abuse from the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, and even some of the Slytherins are thanking him for helping them win. She feels awful for him, and it's making her glee about their likelihood of winning more bitter than sweet. She wants to reassure him somehow, but she knows she'd only sound stupid. She's still not as charming as her brother, and she's useless at being nice when it's really needed.

That afternoon, the girls retire to their dormitory to work on essays. Pansy finishes first and heads into the common room to find the boys, but Dru and Liss are the last to finish having left their Defence Against the Dark Arts essay till the last minute. Once they do finally finish, Dru finally gets around to picking up the odd socks and robes that she has a habit of leaving across the floor, and putting them into the basket by the door that signifies that the house-elves can wash them. Pansy pushes the door open and comes back into the room just as Dru launches a pair of tights across the room. The foot hits her in the face before it falls into the basket by the door, and Pansy recoils, rubbing at her face with the sleeve of her robe.

“Druella, you are disgusting!” she says as everyone laughs.

“At least she's cleaning up,” Liss says.

Pansy nods. “Don't forget to check your robe pockets. If you lose more notes from Charms, I don't want to sleep in the same room as you.”

Dru rolls her eyes in despair. “I'm not _going to_.”

She picks up a robe from the floor and sticks her hand in the pocket. If anyone else had said that, they'd have been hexed, but her friends have been helpful lately and all of them understand that she's worrying about so much lately she has barely enough energy to shower, let alone keep on top of everything else. Pansy grabs her radio- a Christmas present from her parents- and crosses to Lissa's bed, where everyone but Dru and Daphne seems to be congregating. Moments after she sits, the radio is switched on and a Weird Sisters song begins playing loudly.

“Who on earth is this?!” Lissa asks.

“Oh my goodness, this is the Weird Sisters' best songs- do you know who they are?” Tracey says animatedly.

Lissa shakes her head and Tracey gasps, then launches into a massive, detailed explanation- she is the group's self-proclaimed number one fan. Dru picks up the one robe she left on the floor last week and searches through a pocket absent-mindedly, thinking about how easy it is to forget that Lissa still has so much to learn. For all her complaints about struggling with her work, she has adjusted well, and even Dru cannot imagine being in her shoes. She absolutely deserves her place in the group.

“I honestly can't handle your adoration for this lot,” Pansy says to Tracey suddenly. “They're just so...” she shakes her head and gestures. Dru smirks as she checks another pocket on her robe. Their homeless grunge look is rather off-putting, after all.

“Disrespect them and I'll hurt you,” Tracey says, shooting an icy glare at Pansy.

Pansy holds her hands up in surrender. “Am I the only one who thinks this about them?”

“I quite like them,” Daphne supplies from her own bed, though she is too distracted by the book in her hands to add more to the conversation.

“They're okay, but I prefer Celestina Warbeck.”

Dru stops searching and turns to look at Millicent. “You _what_?!”

“Celestina Warbeck?” Pansy says at the same time as Dru. “She's _awful_! My grandmother tortures me with her music every time Mother and I visit.”

“She's calming,” Millicent says defensively, but she's grinning at everyone.

Dru sniggers at her friend and checks the last pocket of the robe, listening to the continuing debate over the wizarding world's best music. Dru prefers the Hobgoblins personally, but they disbanded in 1980 and she gets the distinct feeling that if she admits to liking them everyone will judge her. Tonight, she can't be bothered joining the debate. She sniggers as Tracey swats Pansy on the arm for insulting the Weird Sisters again and pulls an old scrap of parchment and a bottle of ink from the last pocket of the robe. She dumps them lazily on her bedside table to collect later, throws the robe into the basket with the others, and then goes to flop onto her bed, thinking her job complete.

As she does, she notices a fold of cloth poking out from in between her bed and her bedside table. Pulling it out, she mentally kicks herself- this is her warmest robe, and she's been looking for it for a while- since about a week after Boxing Day, actually. She checks the pockets, trying to remember the last time she wore it, and her hands find a sheaf of paper. She presumes they're notes on Parseltongue she'd forgotten about. She pulls them from her pocket and looks at them, but what she sees only serves to confuse her.

It appears to be maps and descriptions of some sort, but whoever had the maps last has sketched descriptions over them. Whatever they are, she has no use for them right now and she has no recollection of where they're from to return them; she slips them into one of the drawers of her bedside table to look at another time. She throws the robe onto the pile of other clothes- the house-elves will have them washed and returned while she's in the common room tomorrow- and settles back onto her bed with a book. She's so tired she only manages to read a page or two before she has to ask the others to keep it down, and she's asleep in moments.

-

The only issue with sleeping early is waking early, Dru curses to herself as she comes round fully the next morning to the realisation that everyone is still asleep. She slides from the blankets, shoving her feet into her slippers, and ventures to check Pansy's clock. When her sleep-filled eyes finally register the time- 6:15am- she grimaces. It's far too early to be up on a Saturday, and she still has 45 minutes before curfew lifts and she can leave the common room. She looks around, yawning, and realises that she fell asleep before dinner last night; the girls have brought her a plate of cold meat and some bread to make a sandwich, and there's some chicken that Dru knows is for Lilith. She picks up some odds and ends to leave for her little snake, as well as a treat of a rasher of bacon. Lilith wakes enough to mumble a thank you, then falls asleep once more. Dru looks around the room, wondering what to do. Her friends won't be up for hours yet, and she's woken up too much now to go to sleep again. She sees the empty basket for clothes and realises that this is the perfect time to look over those maps again, and try to make sense of them.

Sliding from her warm bed, she quickly roots through her trunk and pulls out a beautiful set of deep blue robes and matching shoes. They are one of the lighter robes she owns, but as the rain of the spring is beginning to relent at last into the balmy warmth of the summer, she knows she'll be comfortable enough in them. She runs into the bathroom and cleans her teeth quickly, washes her face and then battles her hair into an extraordinarily messy bun. Once back in the dorm, she tidies her bed as silently as she can, then grabs the paper from her bedside cabinet and stuffs it into her bag along wish some fresh parchment for note-making, two quills and a bottle of her favourite blue ink. She grabs the sandwiches left for her and leaves the dorm, walking quickly through the common room. Merlin is just beginning to stir, so she knows curfew is almost lifted, and there are only a handful of frazzled-looking seventh years up in the common room. One is sleeping on his notes, ink smeared on his face. None of them pay her any heed as she leaves, eating the sandwiches her friends left her with relish. She encounters nobody as she waits for curfew to lift so she can go to the library to study.

Pince is sorting through returned books when Dru enters; she glares once at her and then returns to her work. Dru doesn't bother trying to make the woman like her, instead electing to head straight to her favourite reading nook, grabbing a board to lean on as she passes a teetering pile. She tucks herself tightly into the warm, soft pillows by the windows and unpacks her bag.

The maps are curious; the notes seem to be in some sort of shorthand that she can't get her head round at first, so instead she just looks at them, trying to decipher what they're maps of. She works out fairly quickly that one is some kind of large room, and there are some rooms that look oddly familiar to her, though she can't work out why. The rest of the papers look like jumbled corridors, though Dru can't make any sense out of them. She loses track of time making notes on the shorthand, trying to decipher it. After some time, a hand on her shoulder jolts her harshly from her concentration, causing her to spill ink on a corner of her page.

“Dru,” its owner says.

Dru blinks and curses at the ink, then turns to look at the person. “Hermione!” she says, genuinely surprised to see her Gryffindor friend. “I wasn't expecting to see you. It's been ages.”

“I know! I've been watching you for ten minutes just in case you had any Slytherins with you, I know you don't want us to show you up. You are alone, aren't you? What are you working on? Harry and Ron are somewhere over there, looking for a book. But this looks interesting- what is it?”

Dru smiles. “I think they're maps, but I don't know where they're from. They were in a robe I lost after Christmas, but I don't think I wore it anywhere but... oh,” she trails off, suddenly remembering. She lowers her voice to a near whisper. “I just remembered. They fell out of a book I found in the Restricted Section.”

“Is that with Harry when he nearly got caught?”

“Did he tell you I went with him?”

“No, but you said Christmas, and Harry went up there then, too.”

“You should be a Ravenclaw,” Dru mutters.

“No, oh my goodness no. They don't do their homework, they just- they just- _read about things_.”

Dru shakes her head and laughs quietly. “You never stop surprising me, Hermione.”

“So what did the book say about the maps then?”

“I don't know, I didn't get chance to read it. All I know is that it's something to do with the castle and its heritage. I thought it would be interesting about my family, you know, because it might mention Gaunts.”

“Let me see,” says Hermione. Dru offers her the papers and she looks at them studiously. “Hmmm...”

“Let me see that second page, 'Mione. It looks familiar.”

Hermione wordlessly passes her the page and then returns to looking at the other maps. Dru studies the shape of the room, racking her brains to try and find the link. Eventually, she realises the door is opposite the middle part of the hexagonal outer wall... just like her bed.

“Hermione, this map is the same layout as my dormitory!” she hisses, tugging on her friend's sleeve.

“And this looks like our Potions corridor,” her friend says back. “Dru... the dungeons aren't just one level, are they?”

“No, they're not. This has to be the maps of the lower levels. I bet it was in the Restricted Section because they're not used any more.”

Hermione nods. “Do you want to try and crack the code for these notes? We can see if there's any information about your family in them. I'm sure I've read something about this sort of note-taking.”

“I don't know anything about it,” Dru admits, lifting a page and frowning at it. "I don't think there were any books on this in the Malfoy library and it never seemed interesting if there were.”

“I'm going to go and look for a book on note-making,” Hermione says. “I'll take this page with me. Harry and Ron are looking for some books, but they can look on their own.”

“I was trying to decipher it, like we did with Parseltongue.”

“I'd better go, Pince is starting to glare at us. Keep working on it, and I'll start looking as well.”

As Hermione vanishes off down one of the many aisles, Dru goes back to taking notes, determined to try getting somewhere with the strange markings.

It takes a good hour before Hermione comes back, and Dru has made no headway. She plonks herself firmly down opposite the Slytherin in the reading nook and shoves the page she took as a reference into her hands. Underneath the coded words is a complete translation.

“I worked it out!”

“Wow, Hermione, are you a genius? I'd never have understood this.”

Hermione grins proudly. “I found a book, I didn't manage it alone. We can translate everything now, and see what these notes have to say about the dungeons.”

The girls spend the next hour poring over the notes, translating a second page together before splitting the pile of notes in half and working in silence. When they have deciphered the entire pile, they organise the pile back into order and start looking through it. As they read, their faces grow more solemn.

It is the final page in the pile that holds the most information. The page is of an enormous room, something that looks similar to the Great Hall- though Dru would put money on it having a lower ceiling than the Great Hall's vast heights. There is a message in black ink stating the roof has caved in, and the page is then filled with notes.

Hermione's eyes widen. “Merpeople?”

“We see them sometimes in the Lake. They don't come close to the glass that looks out into it, but we see them. It makes sense. If the walls have caved in, they'd be able to get into the corridors down there.”

“It says there are grindylows down there, too... but that's it. This doesn't have anything useful in it. Sorry, Dru.”

“Don't worry,” Dru says, crestfallen. “I'm sure we'll find something.”

“Do you want to go somewhere to try and translate some more?” Hermione whispers. “I don't want you to feel sad. Maybe it will help somehow.”

Dru nods. She's not sure how it will help her with her family history, but she feels she has to do something. "Bathroom? We know we'll be left alone then," she whispers.

Her curly haired friend nods and then grabs her bag. "Let's go now. Bring those notes, just in case."

Dru shoves the translated pages into her bag and stuffs her ink bottle roughly into her robe pocket, trying to fend off the sinking feeling in her gut that she will _never_ know who her parents are. She stands and gestures to the door, not willing to push Pince's patience by speaking too much. Hermione follows her silently out of the library. Once on the corridor, she stops and hugs her friend again.

"I'm sorry, Dru."

"It's okay," she tells her friend again. It's as much to reassure herself as it is Hermione.

The trip from the library to the disused bathroom is only short, being one floor apart, but unfortunately for the girls the hallways they need to take appear to have been chosen by Peeves as his haunting ground for the day. Dru scowls as she hears his familiar wailing round one of the corridors, but it is when he rounds a corner that her expression shifts to one of true disgust.

His familiar figure is adorned today with a bin from Binns' classroom, which he is wearing on his head. Somehow he has found an armful of eggs and apples, and he appears to have been throwing them at students if the yelling from round the corner is anything to go by. Dru hears him muttering about a swamp outside the library door until he sees the two first-year girls. Instantly, he goes to pelt them with food, but as he notes the colour of Dru's tie he slows just enough to properly notice who they are.

"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiieee!" he yells as he recognises Dru. "Gullible little Gaunt!"

"Get lost, Peeves, or I'll send one of the portraits to find the Baron," she tells him.

"Oooh, look how grouchy Gaunt is today! What's the matter? Looking for your mumsie?"

"For Merlin's sake," Dru mutters. "This again."

Peeves simply cackles. "You're looking in the wrong places anyway, gullible Gaunt! Your crackpot mumsie isn't the only one with a few secrets, oh no no no! Gullible, gullible! You don't listen enough to your- _snake_. You don't, you don't, you don't!"

Dru doesn't even reply, simply shoves Hermione and moves down the hallway. Peeves follows them, occasionally throwing eggs at portraits.

"My friends told me, you know! They whiisssssper about the Gaunt to the walls and the halls!"

Dru stops dead in her tracks, her face suddenly white as a sheet. She turns to face the poltergeist. "What?"

Peeves simply cackles and floats away. "My friends whisper to me about the snake, the snake the snake," he sings. "The green snake in the dungeons! The snake that watches people like _you_!"

Hermione pulls Dru the rest of the way to the bathroom, avoiding most of the people on the corridors. When they are safely tucked away in the bathroom, Dru finally speaks.

"His friends... what did he mean, Hermione?"

"You know he's mad, Dru. It won't mean anything, he just wants to make everyone unhappy. Do you want to translate?"

"Yeah," Dru says, but she knows her heart's not in it.

After an hour of trying to translate words, Dru gives up. "This is pointless," she says to Hermione. "We're not going to find anything doing this."

"It might be useful, you never know."

"I don't think so."

"Well... alright then. Do you want to do something instead?"

Dru shakes her head and pulls the maps from her bag. "I'm sure there was a reason Peeves said those things. I'm sure he meant something by it. I just don't know _what_.”

"Dru, Peeves is really insane. Dumbledore told us at the start of the year he only tries to cause chaos. He just wants to upset you."

"Well, he's managed it," she mumbles, thumbing through the notes aimlessly. "I'd better go back to my dorm. I'm not going to get anything else done today and I have an essay for Snape to finish."

"If you're sure," says Hermione. "I'll talk to you another time, Dru. I'm sorry we didn't find anything."

Dru stands and pulls her into a hug. "It's really okay, Hermione. I'm sure we'll find something out eventually. I just want to know I'm definitely a pureblood, you know? It would make everyone else respect me so much more."

"I believe you are," says Hermione. Dru looks at her to try and work out whether she's lying, but her face is a picture of wide-eyed earnestness.

"Thanks, 'Mione. I'll see you again soon?"

"Definitely!" Hermione agrees, scooping Dru into a tight hug. "It's nice to have another girl to talk to."

Dru laughs her agreement as the pair leave the bathroom and head in their separate directions. Dru smiles almost all the way back to her dormitory, but once back inside her common room a scowl has taken root firmly on her face. She crawls into bed grouchily and pulls the curtains shut, ignoring her dorm mates. Taking out the maps, she ran her fingers over the pages, trying desperately to work out what Peeves meant. Slowly, lulled by the warmth of her bed and the darkness of her curtains, she drifted into sleep-

_There are eyes watching her now. Bulbous, pale, washed out, eyes that have not seen the light in over a millennium, eyes that are only good for watching. Cold and heartless, they loom over her with a shadowy, broken laugh and twisted nails that dripped with something that smelled metallic-_

Dru awakes from her nap and stifles a scream as the memory of the poltergeist she and Pansy were stalked by washes over her in vivid technicolour. She pushes the maps of the lower levels away from her and then suddenly, eyes wide, her mind makes the link. She shoves herself from her bed, stumbles out of the dormitory, ignoring her friends calling after her, and runs to find Hermione. She has no idea what the time is, but her legs carry her to the library as fast as she is able.

Her hunch was right. When she pushes the door open to the library gasping for breath, earning another dirty look from the possessive Pince, Hermione is sat at a table with Ron and Harry talking quietly. She looks up and frowns at Dru when she sees her, but does not point her out to Harry or Ron. She makes a quick excuse and gets up to leave the library when she sees Dru beckon her over. In the corridor outside the door, Dru lets her in on the secret, her words tumbling out breathlessly.

“The fact we don’t use the lower levels anymore isn’t the only reason that book the maps are from is in the Restricted Section... the lower levels have poltergeists, like Peeves, but... nasty,” Dru shivers. “Not like Peeves, he just wants to make a mess and be chaotic. They want to hurt you, actually hurt you. One was watching me, it came right down one of the corridors to get me, and some seventh year boys had to save me and Pansy- Pansy Parkinson. It was right at the beginning of the year, and there hasn't been any more since, but I remember it. I think those were the 'friends' Peeves was singing about."

“If they're worse than Peeves... I don't think I want to know. I'm glad you're safe,” she says, pulling her into a hug. “I wonder why they're down there.”

“I think a head of the school banished them down there ages ago. I wish I'd had chance to read more of that book.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Hermione asks. “Will this information help us? What could the things down there possibly know about you or your parents, if they've been banished down there for ages?”

Dru sighs. "I don't know. But I just have this feeling that... I feel like he's right. There has to be some new information down there, or he wouldn't have said that. He's a menace, but he's not totally heartless- unlike the things down there."

“We could... we could always ask one of the ghosts to go down there for us,” Hermione suggests in a voice so quiet Dru has to strain to hear her.

“Go on,” Dru murmurs, and Hermione shifts uncomfortably.

“Well, we don’t have anyone else’s findings to go off, and there is a large supply of very dead ghosts around the school. The Bloody Baron is quite intimidating. Surely he would fit right in down there?”

“Oh, ‘Mione,” She laughs, which earns her a dirty look from her bushy-haired friend. “The Baron is a sweetheart compared to the things lurking down there. I don't think the Baron would go down there for us. Nor would any of the ghosts, I don't think.”

“We could at least ask him about what’s down there. He might not've been there himself, but he _has_ been in the castle a very long time. He's got to at least have some stories about them.”

Dru offers her friend a big smile. “Hermione, you may just be onto something.”

The following morning, the girls ensure they are up bright and early to meet at 6 o’clock by the entrance to the dungeons. Even Dru is amazed at her friend's secrecy as she arrives; she has managed to sneak down from somewhere high in the castle to the dungeons without incident, though she seems entirely blasé about it. The Baron seems to like a particular stairwell down the hall from the Slytherin dorms in the mornings. Everyone else is too afraid to go near it, so it seems as good a place as any to begin their search. Anywhere people refuse to go in the dungeons, the girls presume, is going to be one step closer to the poltergeists- and one step closer to working out Peeves' riddle.

“Morning Dru,” Hermione says in a very quiet voice. “I don't know how I managed to get down here without anyone noticing me.”

“Neither do I,” Dru admits. “Come on. If you get lost, the snake heads point in the direction of the stairs. Follow them to get back here.”

“We won't get lost, will we?” Hermione asks nervously.

“Shouldn't do, I know the dungeons fairly well now. Come on.”

They set off in the direction of the common room, although Dru keeps very quiet as they pass the turning for the reading room outside it. She doesn't want to betray her house any further by letting anyone else who isn't a Slytherin know where the entrance is. As they go past the corridor to her common room, the appearance of the dungeon walls begin to shift. The walls close in on themselves, leaving less room to walk, and upon close inspection some of the mortar is beginning to crumble between the bricks. Even the torches seem to lack the willpower to burn brightly. The girls shift closer together as they walk down the corridor towards the very end of the dungeon, the furthest point in the sprawling maze under the floor of the castle from the staircase. It feels like the lower levels of the dungeons are spilling further up into the castle; Dru wonders if the poltergeist's presence has anything to do with is as she reaches to grab Hermione's arm.

“We're definitely headed in the right direction,” Hermione whispers. “I can see why nobody wants to come here.”

Dru just nods, her hand loosely holding her wand inside her left sleeve. The memories of the poltergeist are still fresh in her mind and she can feel the panic rising as she travels along the corridor. “The Baron likes the next corridor.”

“It's the very end one... we've come a long way.”

They round the corridor and sure enough there floats the Baron, watching the darkness aimlessly as his chains clank around beneath him. Dru and Hermione watch him with baited breath for a moment or two, and then Dru clears her throat. The Baron turns sharply.

“What are you doing here?” he asks incredulously. “This is a disused portion of the dungeons. Miss Gaunt? Must you ask me again for knowledge I cannot provide to you?”

“I know, Baron, I'm sorry I followed you.”

“Apology accepted. Now please, if that is all you wanted, return to your common room. This part of the dungeon is not welcoming to students.”

Dru shakes her head. “We wanted to ask you about Peeves.”

“What has the infernal monster done now?” asks the Baron, glancing over his shoulder into the gloom of the corridor.

“Well... I was researching my... family in the library yesterday,” Dru says, not willing to let slip the true research she and Hermione were doing. “When we left, Peeves cornered us. He was talking about making a swamp outside the library, but then he started talking about how his- his friends were talking about me. I thought his friends might be the poltergeists from the lower dungeons.”

The Baron's eyes widen. “Perhaps. Peeves is aware of his fellows underneath the castle.”

“If they are talking about me, they might know who my parents are. We wondered- well, I wondered, anyway... would you be able to go down and ask them for me? I don't want to face them again.”

The Baron shook his head. “Absolutely not. Impossible.”

“Would any of the other ghosts-”

“No, Miss Gaunt, and I suggest you do not ask again. There is something else down there besides the poltergeists that none of us wish to encounter again.”

“Again?” asked Hermione. “So you've met whatever it is before?”

“Yes. Many years ago,” the Baron said, turning to face down the corridor as a muffled thumping noise drifted along it. “It was an unfortunate meeting. I did not intend to be as far down in the dungeons as I was; I had a task to scout through and count the numbers of the poltergeists for the headmaster.”

“And?” prompted Hermione.

“And I found the ghost of one of the most important members of our school. It was a shock and a shame to see him so... lost. The dungeons were his, after all...”

“Who was it?” asked Dru. “They might know something about me.”

“I doubt it, girl,” the Baron snapped. “He died long before your parents, whoever they were, ever existed, much less decided to conceive such an irritating brat. You are no longer welcome here. Go back to your common rooms before I send for a staff member to collect you.”

Dru goes to speak again, not afraid of the Baron enough to leave, but Hermione stops her. The girls beat a hasty retreat to a disused classroom on the second floor where they slump down against a wall and frown at each other.

“What on earth did he mean?”

"I don't know," Hermione admits. "I don't think there's much writing on the ghosts at Hogwarts. There's too many to list."

"He said... the most important member. Of the school."

"Dru, the Baron said whoever he was, he wouldn't know anything about you."

"Good point," said Dru, defeated. "What am I going to do?"

"We could always ask a poltergeist down there ourselves, if none of the ghosts will."

"What?!" cries Dru, shooting to her feet. "Hermione, no. You haven't seen them. They'd kill us. I swear the one I saw had blood on its hands."

Hermione shakes her head. "Poltergeists aren't malicious. It said so in a book I read. Maybe the one you saw was just trying to scare you.”

"Yeah, I don't think you read about _these_ poltergeists. Sorry, Hermione. It's a good idea, but I'm not doing that."

"Peeves said they were talking about you-"

"I don't care! Hermione, I'm not going down there. I don't ever want to see another one of those things again."

Dru grabs her bag and leaves Hermione sitting in the bathroom alone. As she walks quickly back to her common room to see her friends once again she wonders if she really can hear the sound of screaming coming from the corridors that lead to the lower dungeons. She quickens her pace. Behind her, snapping at her heels, are the voices of both Blaise and Hermione.

“ _You're too stubborn. And you're looking in all the wrong places. Haven't you thought about asking one of the ghosts?”_

“ _We could always ask a poltergeist down there..."_

_Peeves did say the poltergeists down there knew something I don't. And I don't think the ghosts would tell me about my parents even if they did know. I swear there's some kind of plan to stop me ever finding out. Well... i_ _f the ghosts won't tell me anything, maybe the poltergeists will. They don't listen to rules._

 


	13. Expecto Tacitum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Two chapters in as many days? Shock horror! This was today's work- see, when we don't have uni we're very productive! Hope you all enjoy, and you should have a new chapter in the next couple of days! -Liss x
> 
> And as always, periodic reminder we don't own anything about the Harry Potter canon.
> 
> P.S. The new co-author acc, lauramariadavis, is laura's personal ao3 acc! Go check out her new drarry fic, it's the bomb! -Liss x

Dru wakes on Sunday morning feeling no more rested than if she had run a marathon in her sleep. Around her, her dorm mates are sprawled across their beds. Millicent is snoring loudly, but Dru feels as though she'll never be able to sleep again. Sighing, she slides from bed and heads for the bathroom, grabbing a fluffy towel from a pile near the brazier as she does so.

Her shower is as short as she can manage, barely enough to dampen her thick hair. Once she's out and dressed in a grey skirt and lightweight green jumper, she pulls her hair into a high ponytail and slides her feet into the nearest shoes she can find. She hasn't a clue what time it is, nor does she remember to check Pansy's little clock before she wanders aimlessly from the room. She barely recalls the last time she spoke to her Slytherin friends; it has only been a day or two at most that she last had a real conversation with them, but her mind has been in a daze ever since she found the maps once more.

The common room is empty aside from the same seventh year student sitting asleep among his notes, ink smeared on his face and hands. Dru wonders if he's actually left his spot to eat or shower since he first sat down. Ignoring him and Merlin's portrait- he's still fast asleep, so Dru knows it's definitely not close to curfew lifting- she all but glides from the common room to the corridor. It feels cooler than usual this morning, and Dru almost wishes she was wearing a shirt or vest under her jumper. She isn't watching where her feet are carrying her, so when she turns left out of the reading nook towards the Baron's favourite morning haunt, she barely realises the walls getting darker and the corridors closing in until she hears familiar laughter.

"Peeves," the Baron rumbles, "you know you ought to be returning to terrorise the school once again. The light of day returns to Hogwarts."

"Yes yes yes," mumbles Peeves.

Dru has never heard him so agreeable or so... quiet. She shuffles forwards as silently as she's able, not stopping to think about why or how she got here. She stops herself when she's as close to the corner as she dares to get.

"How... was he?"

"Oh dear old Sally? He whispers, snakey Sally! Asssssssssskssss about the Gaunt girl."

The Baron sighs. "He will not stop until he has her."

Peeves simply laughs.

"Peeves, you must warn one of us if he plans to hurt her."

"I'll not be a slave! No no! Snakey Sally can keep his own, and I'll tell you all about his slithery little plans! Where is my hat?"

"You leave it in Professor Binns' classroom when you visit the dungeons, Peeves. You know that. Go find it, and try not to give the caretaker a heart attack today. I have to deal with his infernal moaning..."

"HAT!" cries Peeves.

Dru hears the bells on his shoes jingle as he begins to move off down the corridor. She turns on the spot and shoots back down the corridor, eyes wide, and doesn't stop until she reaches the corner to the reading nook. She flings herself round it and slides halfway behind a bookshelf just in time for Peeves to float by, apparently entirely unaware of the first-year's presence just three feet to his right. He sings to himself as he moves back towards the main body of the school to begin his day's chaos.

" _Expecto Tacitum_ , _Expecto Tacitum_ , what will stop me? _Expectooooo Tacitummmm_ , only silence, yes, only silence works on me..." his words drift down the corridor to Dru as she stands, heart hammering against her chest. She murmurs the password to the common room door and slides back in, her mind racing. Suddenly, the exhaustion of not sleeping well and living in a daze seems to catch up with her and she slumps down on a beanbag near the fire, chilled to the bone. Her mind races as she tries to make sense of the conversation between the Baron and Peeves, but before she knows it, the comfort of the beanbag and the warmth of the fire lull her into a deep sleep, and any potential epiphanies are lost to her gentle slumber.

She has no idea how long she's slept when she is awoken by Pansy sitting on her.

"Hey, Dru, why are you asleep in the common room? Don't you know you have a perfectly good bed?"

"Or are we too much work for you?" chimes someone else, but Dru is too disoriented to see who it is.

"Sister mine, get off the beanbag. You look like someone dragged you through a hedge in your sleep."

"S'not my fault," Dru mumbles, shoving Pansy to the side so they share the beanbag, instead of having her friend on her knee. "Wuz tired."

"You see, boys? This is what we have to deal with first thing in a morning," Pansy says to a chorus of good-natured laughter.

Dru senses rather than sees the group settle down on the beanbags and chairs around her near the fire. She rubs her eyes with the backs of her hands and pats at her hair, trying to work out what to do with it. Eventually, she pulls it from the ponytail and runs her fingers through it, pushing it all back from her face and collecting it into the hair tie loosely.

"Morning," she says after a few seconds of silence. She looks around at the common room to see it still as quiet as it was last night- the seventh year has woken up, and is alternating between rubbing his face and staring at the piles of notes in front of him with glassy eyes. Aside from him, three other Slytherins and Dru's friends, everyone else appears to still be in bed. "What time is it?"

"Just after nine thirty," says Millicent, stifling a yawn. "Pansy, did you really have to get everyone up just to see Dru asleep in the common room? There are stranger places to fall asleep."

Pansy nods solemnly. "Millicent, we talked about this."

"About what?" asks Dru.

"We are staging an- an _intervention_ ," Pansy says dramatically. "You haven't eaten since Friday, Druella."

"I wasn't hungry-"

"Dru, your idea of 'not hungry' usually means you eat a normal meal," says Theo. Even his face is a picture of concern. "The last time you did this was just before Christmas, and we didn't know if we _could_ intervene."

"Exactly," supplies Pansy, as the rest of her friends nod. "Now we know we can... and keep our faces relatively hex-free, at least. So you're coming to breakfast with us, and you're not leaving the sight of at least one of us all day."

"But-"

"No buts," insists Pansy. "I have your brother's express permission on this. Don't I, Draco?"

Dru looks between her brother and Pansy. He looks sheepish, but he nods. Dru just rolls her eyes. "Do I get a choice?"

"No," the entire group says together.

"Fine. Can I at least shower without someone watching?"

"I'm going to shower as well."

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Dru mutters as she stands. "Fine."

Dru gets into the shower first, then calls for Pansy. The thickly frosted glass of the shower cubicles means they can't see each other until Pansy smushes her face against the glass, which makes Dru jump as she turns around and then laugh until her sides ache. When she's finally washed her hair- not an easy task with so much of it- she follows Pansy out into the dorm to get dressed. Instead of the clothes she was wearing before she launches them into the washing basket for the elves to sort and pulls out one of her favourite summer robes. It is a beautiful pastel yellow, layered with lighter fabrics and three-quarter length draping sleeves.

"That's a beautiful robe, Dru," comments Lissa, who is once again wearing jeans and a muggle t-shirt. "I wish I had some robes to wear outside of my uniform."

"I'll give you some of my old ones, if you like," offers Daphne.

"She's closer to my size," says Pansy, running a brush through her damp hair. "I have plenty of robes I'm bored of wearing now. I'll owl you a parcel of them over the summer, if you'd like?"

Lissa nods. "Yes please! I don't think I could afford expensive robes."

"I'll make sure to give you the best ones that will look reasonably fashionable for a few more summers at least. Can't have my friends not keeping up with the times, after all," Pansy says.

"Is it breakfast yet?" asks Millicent, pulling on a jumper as she speaks. "I'm hungry."

Right on cue, Dru's stomach rumbles loudly and she sighs as the girls all laugh. "Apparently, I'm hungry too."

"We can be early for breakfast. It's Sunday, half the Professors will have been sitting in the Great Hall for the last hour gossiping about us," Daphne says, sliding from the bed and stuffing her feet into some shoes.

"Okay, let's go collect the boys. I bet none of them have even showered," Pansy says as the girls all tumble from their dormitory.

"Draco will have done."

"But Crabbe and Goyle won't," says Lissa, linking her arm through Dru's.

At breakfast, Dru sits with Pansy, Lissa, Blaise and Draco. The others sit just to her right, all talking animatedly amongst themselves over something or other, but Dru isn't sure she wants to know whatever they're planning, so she just lets her friends keep an eye on her as she piles her plate high with every food she can get her hands on. She hadn't realised quite how hungry she'd been since she lost track of time to thinking about the-

"Dru," says Draco warningly as he helps himself to a rasher of bacon from her plate. "I can see you getting distracted. Stop it before Pansy notices."

"I'm not!"

"Not what?"

"Going to get fat," Dru says in reply to Pansy, glaring at Draco as he steals more bacon. "However, my brother is going to waste away in a coffin very shortly if he _keeps stealing my food_."

Blaise laughs. "Draco, my friend, perhaps it is not the time to annoy your sister."

Draco smirks and takes a slice of toast from the tray in front of him, but he doesn't take any more food from Dru's plate.

The girls drag Dru out for a walk in the summer sunshine after breakfast, claiming that she needs to see the sun.

"You're paler than a vampire, Dru," Daphne comments. "And my mother always says, the best way to show you're healthy is to have a gorgeous summer glow."

"What are you supposed to do in the winter then?" asks Millicent. "Seriously, does nobody remember that we're usually buried under ten feet of snow up here?"

Dru snorts as the girls wander across a lawn towards the lake. "I don't know. Daphne, beauty expert, have any ideas?"

"I'm sure there is a way, but I don't know it yet. I'll write to Mother this afternoon and ask her."

The girls sit at the edge of the lake, and as they relax, Dru's mind drifts toward the maps once more. Part of her wants to ask for help from her friends. She knows they would help her if they could; maybe even offer to work out which ghost is in the dungeons for her. But part of her knows that they would be confused as to why she's so determined to discover her heritage for certain. To them, her position as part of their group is set, and they are more than willing to help her fend off any minor threats from the othe purebloods. They wouldn't understand why she's so certain the answer to her heritage lies in the school's dungeons. So she keeps her mouth shut, instead laughing with the girls over some trivial gossip from Charms.

"I heard that Cutwick was dating that Hufflepuff girl in fifth year."

"Really?"

"Yep. She has more of a backbone than him," laughs Millicent.

"No, she doesn't," Pansy says very quietly. "Cutwick got me and Dru back to the common room after that poltergeist, remember?"

The group fall silent for a moment, looking at both Pansy and Dru. Both of them look solemnly out over the water of the lake as they reflect back on that night.

"He's still a Slytherin, even if he can't remember the password for the common room most of the time," Millicent agrees after a few moments of silence. She looks guilty for reminding them of it accidentally. "Sorry."

"It's okay," says Pansy.

Dru nods, but her mind is chasing an idea that seems just out of her reach, prompted by the poltergeist conversation. She replays the Baron's thoughts over and over in her mind, as well as the conversation she overheard earlier this morning, and tries to keep her expression neutral.

Sally. The most important member of our school.

Sally.

Salazar.

Slytherin.

The ghost of Salazar Slytherin is in the dungeons of Hogwarts.

Dru is on her feet and sprinting back towards the castle as fast as she can before any of her friends have a moment to react. She can hear them behind her, calling for her to stop, and Daphne and Millicent, the two fastest sprinters of the group, are closing the gap on her, but she wills her feet forwards. She has no idea where she'll find Hermione, but she needs to talk to her. She thunders through the doorway from the courtyard past the Great Hall, glancing briefly as she does to spot Hermione's hair, but to no avail. The only other place she can think to check is the library, which is her next best hope. She pushes past the students on the stairs to leap onto one of the moving staircases just as it moves off. Behind her, she can hear Millicent curse loudly.

"The other staircase! We have to catch her!"

They run in the opposite direction as Dru takes the stairs three at a time, leaping over the trick stair that vanishes and onto the third floor landing. She runs down the corridor and bursts into the library loudly, frantically looking around for Hermione.

"Miss Gaunt!" cries Pince, looking distraught.

Dru spots a tiny Gryffindor- the Patil girl, she thinks to herself as she strides over to her.

"Where's Hermione Granger?" she asks.

The Patil girl looks at her wild-eyed. Dru thinks she must look insane, but she needs to see Hermione.

"I don't know, why do you need to know?"

"I need to see her," Dru demands loudly.

"Miss _Gaunt_!" comes the cry from Pince.

"Why?"

"Stop asking me questions and tell me where my friend is!" yells Dru. "I need to see her!"

" _MISS GAUNT!_ "

"I think she's in our common room. Do you want me to fetch her?"

Dru looks at the Patil girl and nods. "Yes. Please," she remembers to add. "I'll follow you up."

Patil sweeps her books into her bag with one swift movement and stands. Pince has left her desk and appears, looming, over Dru.

"Miss Gaunt, leave this library at once! You are banned for the rest of term, if I see your face in here I shall report you to the headmaster-"

Dru has left, following Patil at a dead sprint, leaving Pince shouting at thin air and the heavy door swinging shut behind her.

Dru has no idea where she is by the time she reaches the seventh floor. None of her lessons are this high in the castle. The portraits watch in surprise as they see the girls running towards what Dru presumes will be the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

"Wait here," Patil tells her breathlessly, and turns to a portrait of a very fat woman who seems to be staring at Dru in contempt.

"I do hope you shan't be telling this stranger the password," she says to Patil.

Patil leans forward and whispers something to her.

"Very good," she says, and her portrait swings forward to reveal a large hole in the wall, perfect for scrambling through.

Patil does. Dru kicks her heels and tries to regain her breath. Soon enough, the portrait swings open again and Patil slides out, shortly followed by Hermione. Dru has never been happier to see a friend in her life. She sweeps Patil into a hug, then remembers she's hugging a Gryffindor who she barely knows and lets go. Patil steps away from her as though she's insane.

"Uh. Thanks, Patil."

"You're welcome, Gaunt," she says with a smile. She leans over to the portrait again and murmurs something, and she swings forward to allow the girl entrance to the common room.

"Dru, what's this about?"

"I didn't know where to find you."

"No, I mean, why did you need me so desperately you had to scare another Gryffindor into helping you find me?"

"Salazar Slytherin's ghost is the one who haunts the dungeons."

"You've got to be joking."

"No, it's true. Or at least, I think it's true."

"How do you know?"

Dru shifts uneasily. "I don't know why, but I ended up back at the bottom of the corridor where the Baron likes to be in the mornings today. Peeves was there, and he was talking about 'snakey Sally' or something. Sally. Salazar."

"Talking to the Bloody Baron? I've only ever seen him run away."

"I know, but he'd apparently gone down to spy on them or something. And then he went right by me singing a song about how 'only silence' can stop him. And there was something that sounded like a spell, but I don't know what it was. _Expecto_... uh... oh Merlin, I can't remember it right now, but it sounded like a spell."

"A spell for what?" muses Hermione. "We should go to the library and research."

"I... uh... can't. I got myself barred getting Patil to fetch you for me."

Hermione frowns. "Clever move, Dru. I don't think I've heard of poltergeists talking about spells before."

"No, neither have I. And I'd never heard of that spell before, even though I know most of the ones we're studying this year."

"I've read about most spells, but not this one. I wonder if it relates to poltergeists at all? I'll go and look. You meet me in the toilets. If you can think of anything else I need to find..."

"Anything on Slytherin. He was asking about me, apparently."

"I wonder why?"

"I don't know, but I get the feeling we're going to have to find out one way or another."

"I'll meet you in the bathroom in an hour. I promise."

Dru nods and pulls Hermione into a tight hug. They walk separately, although Hermione is within Dru's line of sight right until she turns into the corridor leading towards the library. Dru hears a shout from up above her as she's on the third floor.

"Hey! Dru!"

" _Merlin_ ," she mutters.

It's Lissa, clearly looking for her. She scurries down the nearest staircase, making a leap even the more than reckless Dru would not attempt in order to reach her quickly. Dru rolls her eyes- this is not what she needs right now. She turns on her heel and sprints down the nearest corridor, hoping to find a secret passage she knows is behind a tapestry nearby that leads out on the second floor, near the disused girls' toilets. She finds it just before Lissa turns the corner, still calling for her to wait, and she stands, trying to breathe silently, just behind the tapestry as she hears Lissa stop not a metre from where she stands in the tiny dark passage.

"Dru? Oh for God's sake. Dru, if you're hiding, please come out. Dru, I'm worried about you. If you want to talk I'm here. Dru?"

Lissa eventually moves off again, clearly looking for her, but Dru just rolls her eyes at her muggleborn friend and turns to the very dark passage behind her.

" _Lumos_ ," she whispers, holding her wand aloft. The passageway, she knows, leads down a very short and low-ceilinged corridor and then to a tight spiral staircase, then back on itself down another short corridor to a statue that leans forward _just_ far enough for a student to sneak out. The corridor is very quiet, and Dru can feel her robe sleeves brushing against the cobwebs on the walls, as this secret passageway is rarely used. For some reason, her mind cannot help but imagine what would happen if she were to lift her wand aloft and spot a twisted poltergeist. She grasps in her mind for the spell, but remembers nothing but Peeves' words on silence and the letter 'T'. For now, she settles for a simple ' _Flipendo_ ', to give her time to get away, and settles her grip more firmly on her wand. The secret passageway is empty, and Dru slides out from behind the statue to a deserted corridor. Nobody wants to go too near the 'haunted' bathroom, especially not after the troll incident at Hallowe'en.

" _Nox_ ," she whispers, letting herself through the heavy door to the toilets. A wailing noise comes from one of the cubicles, but whatever is causing it appears not to have noticed Dru's entrance, so she settles for sitting behind the sinks with her back against the wall to keep an eye on any potential intruders. She needs the maps, but they remain in the top drawer of her bedside table, and she's loathe to go back just in case her dorm mates corner her and keep her there. She resolves to wait it out, humming an old Hobgoblins song very quietly to herself to keep her mind occupied as she stares blankly at the wall, flicking her wand back and forth.

It takes roughly forty minutes for Hermione to appear again, at which point Dru has run out of Hobgoblins songs that she knows well enough to hum. At least the infernal wailing in the cubicle has stopped, she thinks to herself. Hermione slips through the door, books in her arms.

"Dru?"

"I'm over here."

Hermione puts the books down gently. "I found a book on old legends about Hogwarts, I think there's probably going to be some stories about Slytherin in there at least... and this is the interesting one. I remembered what you said, and I got the Encyclopaedia of Known Spells out on the 'E' book. And it's in there."

"What is?"

"The spell Peeves must have been singing about. Look," Hermione says, opening the book to a page marked with a scrap of parchment. She reads the entry aloud. " _Expecto Tacitum_. Spell to repel poltergeists; while unable to remove them permanently from a place of residence it can aid with moving them if especially problematic. Poltergeists can suppress the effects of the spell with repeated use. Effects include green wand tip illumination and powerful gusts of mist controllable by wand movements. Lesser powered versions of the spell leave the mist unable to be controlled, but both varieties of response provide a good protection against pesky poltergeists. Wand movement is a level flick offside followed with a vertical movement towards the sky. High-level spell, difficulty five."

"I wonder if we could cast it."

"This is the most difficult casting level, Dru. The book says that only the most able of witches and wizards can use them. They're very tricky to master. Why would we be able to cast them?"

"Why not? All those witches and wizards were in our position once."

Dru gets to her feet and pulls out her wand. "You pronounce it like eck-spec-to tas-i-tum, right?"

"Yes. _Expecto Tacitum_. The book says the wand movement is a flick to the left and then upwards."

"Okay. Here goes nothing," says Dru, pulling on all of her focus. Brandishing her wand, she tries the spell. " _Expecto Tacitum_."

"Try flicking your wand a little less," suggests Hermione when there is no response.

Dru does so, and is thoroughly rewarded when she casts again; her wand tip lights up a sickening green colour and a seeping mist trickles from it. It is not much, merely puddles around her ankles, but it is enough. Dru manages to make it last for around ten seconds, then ends the spell and stumbles back to the wall to sit down near Hermione. "That's hard."

Hermione stands, pulling her wand from her pocket. " _Expecto Tacitum_. _Expecto Tacitum. Expecto Tacitum!_ "

Hermione achieves nothing. Not even the slightest spark of green light reaches the tip of her wand, no matter the determination on her face. She sits down again wearily. "I was so determined I could cast that, but even trying is exhausting. I suppose it's because poltergeists are so difficult... you have to be very determined to get rid of them."

"They're a nightmare to deal with, it makes sense. And you can't get rid of them permanently."

Hermione nods. "So... when we go down to the dungeons to face the poltergeists- or Slytherin, if it's him sending them to watch you- what are we going to say to him?"

"I don't know," Dru says. "I still don't know if I want to."

"I'm not letting you go down there alone. And you've searched everywhere else..."

Dru sighs. "You make a good point. Alright. When are we going to go down?"

"We'll need food, and if Slytherin's down there, I want to take things to detect Dark magic. I'll try and get my hands on a curse compass."

"Cursepass, Hermione. Nobody calls them curse compasses any more."

"Cursepass, then. I'll find one. I'm sure Professor Quirrell will have some in the store cupboard for Defence."

"You're going to steal one? But what about the _rules_ , Hermione?" Dru jokes, sticking her tongue out.

Hermione sighs. "You're starting to sound like Ron."

"Ew, don't compare me to him. I'm sorry, Hermione. You get a hold of a cursepass, I'll try and work out the best way to get food... what will we need?"

"Things that will keep for a long time. Cold meat, a loaf of bread, and maybe some apples or something. That's what all the adventurers take in books, isn't it?"

"Won't we need to drink?"

"Yes. I don't have anything to put any water in, though."

"I think I can fix that."

"I won't ask questions," Hermione says with a faint smile.

The girls stand, Hermione picking up the books as she does. Dru dusts some cobwebs aimlessly off the sleeve of her robe. "We should meet up tomorrow. Shall we say here tomorrow afternoon? At around half past four?"

"That's perfect. I'll go read up on Slytherin in this book and make some notes. I'll let you go and find something for us to drink."

Dru nods and the girls leave the toilets quietly, just in time for one of the toilets to start clanking.

"For Merlin's sake, whatever haunts those toilets really doesn't like company, does it?"

Hermione just laughs. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dru."

"Bye, 'Mione."

 


	14. A Trip to Hogsmeade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya everyone! Laura is on holiday as of today for the next three weeks. She's going home (because Hogwarts has relocated to Florida), so there will be no updates for at least a month because I'm without my co-author. Once she's back updates will be thick and fast and Black Lake should be done soon. We can't wait for you to be able to read it all! Enjoy the chapter and have a lovely day! -Liss x

Dru watches Hermione leave the corridor slowly, her mind beginning to wander. She considers carefully what to do next; she _could_ go back to the dormitory, but the likelihood is that her friends will corner her again and demand to know where she was and what she was doing for hours without them on a Sunday afternoon. And no doubt their well-intentioned idea of an 'intervention' will keep her from doing anything productive. She mopes around the corridor for a few moments longer, then sighs. There really isn't anything she can do but wait it out until Hermione finds a cursepass, and unless she wants to sneak to Hogsmeade through her secret passage to buy a lantern and some flasks for water without any money, she's going to have to go back to the dormitory. She sighs.

" _Merlin_ ," she mutters. The last thing she wants is to face her friends. She hasn't got a clue what she's going to say to them. It's easy to lie to Uncle Lucius, she thinks, but not so easy to lie to her friends about what she's doing. She can just hear Pansy in her mind, telling her how her plan is _complete lunacy_ and _are you **trying** to get yourself killed, Dru_?

She heads back in the direction of her dormitory once again, resigning herself to being pounced on by friends demanding answers to questions she doesn't want to think about seriously because she's still not sure herself if doing this is a good idea.

"Dru!" comes Lissa's shout as she leaves a corridor back onto a landing in the main hall. "Dru, please wait!"

A staircase swings round which gives her a clear escape if she wants to run. Dru gives up, thanking her lucky stars that Lissa is on her own. There is no way she can escape her friends any longer, and she would rather speak to one of them at a time till she works out what to say. Lissa runs down the last three steps and along the landing to her friend, grabbing hold of her shoulder.

"Thank God," she says. "We were starting to think you'd found a way to Disapparate."

Dru snorts. "Really?"

Lissa looks embarrassed. "You are a really good witch," she says.

Dru can't help herself. She starts laughing hard, and eventually she has to lean against the banister of the landing to wipe tears from her eyes. "That's brilliant."

Lissa grins. "Why did you run away?"

"It's complicated. I can't talk about it."

"Okay," Lissa says. "I'll tell the others you don't want to talk about it. We should go find them, though. Pansy wasn't happy you left so suddenly, and Mill's been crying for a while. She thinks she upset you talking about what happened with Cutwick and that."

Dru shakes her head. "It's related, but don't tell the others. Thinking about it doesn't scare me. Only the nightmares do that."

Lissa nods. "Come on. I think Pansy said she was going to search near the fourth floor, and Mill went to the Astronomy Tower."

The girls start making their way up to the top of the Astronomy Tower via one of the fourth floor corridors, where they find Pansy poking her head into every classroom she walks by. She smiles at the two girls as they approach her and pulls them both into a hug.

"Dru, I told you we were having an intervention. That means you can't run off any more. Why did you go?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Where's Mill? I need to say sorry."

"Astronomy Tower with Daphne, I think," Pansy says. "Let's go."

The walk to the tower seems to take forever, but eventually they arrive and find Millicent and Daphne sitting with their legs over the side of the Tower. Millicent's eyes are red-rimmed and she sniffs as she sees Dru, Liss and Pansy approaching.

"Dru! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," she says, pulling her legs back over the side of the Tower and standing up.

"It's okay." Dru says, thinking fast. If her friends want to assume remembering the poltergeist upset her so she'd run off to cry alone, she's not going to tell them the truth. It's easier than lying outright to them. She and the girls share a quick if slightly awkward hug and then make their way back to the dungeons, all of them feeling the effects of running round the whole school. Outside the common room, Merlin is sitting with a book in his armchair, watching.

"Ah, ladies! Welcome back. I trust your Sunday afternoon is going well?"

"Yes, thank you," says Lissa. "But we have revision to do."

The girls settle down to look at their revision notes when they return to their common room; they are determined to do themselves and their House proud in their exams. Dru settles on her bed, ignoring Lilith's hisses to herself and her dorm mates murmuring the odd spell. Millicent reads aloud to herself, but the rest of the dorm are so used to her that they barely notice. Dru opens her Potions textbook until she's sure that the rest of her dorm are distracted in their revision, and then she opens her bedside table and retrieves her bundle of maps. Now she knows that Slytherin's ghost is down there, she finds herself looking through the maps with a more critical eye, looking for any sort of hint of where he lives. The maps hold no information. Dru can only assume that whoever went down into the dungeons, they didn't find him, though doesn't make their search feel any more optimistic. Already Dru is itching to run and find Hermione again, but she knows there's nothing she can do. It is like the maps in her hands are pushing her forwards- after all, Peeves said it himself. Salazar Slytherin is in the dungeons, and asking after her.

"I'm going to go and ask Draco to go to the library with me. To find some books," she says after another five minutes. She pulls her bag out from by her bed and makes a point of shoving some textbooks into it. In reality, she slides them under her pillow, only stuffing the maps and a purse full of spending money into her bag. None of her dorm mates react fully, all busy concentrating, so Dru scuttles out as quickly as she dares. Her first stop is her brother's dorm.

The door is closed when Dru arrives, but before she's even knocked, it opens and Crabbe walks right into her, closely followed by Goyle.

"Vincent Crabbe," Dru snaps at him.

"Sorry, Dru," he mumbles. "I need to find my book. I think I left it in the common room."

She steps aside, and the pair lumber down the corridor together. Dru turns her attention back to the dormitory. Draco is sitting on the floor on one of the pillows from his bed, concentrating. It doesn't even look like he's noticed Dru there.

"Draco," she says. When he doesn't respond, she kicks her shoe off her foot and across the room at him. " _Draco_."

He looks up irritably. "What is it this- oh, Dru. What do you want?"

"I need some books from the library, but I don't want to go on my own."

Draco rolls his eyes. "Must you pick today, Druella?"

"Yes. I need them for Transfiguration."

Draco rolls his eyes, but he stands up and throws Dru's shoe back at her. He has understood the urgency in her voice, it seems, because he puts fresh paper, ink and quills into his bag, as well as some Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans. He leaves his book on the side, then shivers theatrically.

"Is anyone else cold?" he asks as he collects a cloak from inside his trunk. "I know I am."

"Draco, the fire is lit," Theo points out.

Draco swings the cloak round his shoulders anyway, still fake-shivering. "I'm cold," he whines. For a single second, Dru actually believes him, and then he's leaving the dormitory, still whining. He keeps the act up until they're out of earshot of Merlin's portrait on the dungeon corridor.

"What's wrong, Dru?"

Dru lets her feet lead her towards the third floor as they walk along in silence. Draco knows better than to disturb his sister while she decides what she's doing, and she wants a moment to consider what she's about to do. It might alienate Hermione entirely, but she needs her brother in this. Only he will be able to verify her claims if she goes down to hunt for Slytherin. She looks at him and makes her mind up. Not only does she need her brother- she also kind of wants him to come with them, too. It will feel less terrifying if her partner-in-crime is there as well. She might be able to kid herself they are playing pretend in the gardens of Malfoy Manor at home. She stops, tugs the maps from her bag and holds them out to her brother.

"I found these," she says.

Draco takes them and flicks through them seriously. "What is it a map of?"

"The dungeons- well, the deeper levels, at least. This page is just one bit of it, but look at the layout," she says as she points to a specific section. "Does the shape remind you of-?"

"It's the same shape as the common room, and that's our dormitories," he replies, looking over to her with wide eyes. This is a map of the levels below _us_."

"Not just that. You know that poltergeist at the start of the year?"

"Yes..."

"Pansy was right, it was looking at me. I've been watching the Baron and Peeves, you know how the Baron likes to watch at the bottom of the corridor in the mornings? It's to stop any poltergeists getting up- he knows how to stop them. Anyway one morning Her- ah, I mean I was leaving the library and Peeves cornered me, singing about snakes and the poltergeists in the dungeons. Apparently they talk about me. I asked him, but he ran off, so I went to ask the Baron one morning if he could go and ask the poltergeists about me."

"And he said no, clearly, or you would not be showing this to me."

"He said the ghost of a really important member of our school was down there and that he didn't want to run into him. He got really angry and snapped at me. We- I mean I- went away again after that-"

"How is that helpful, Dru-" Draco interrupts.

"-Shut up, dragon, I'm telling a story."

"Don't call me dragon at school."

"Just because you don't want them to know we have nicknames," Dru snaps. " _Anyway_ , I went away and this morning I snuck out of bed to watch the Baron for a while-"

"-Is that why you were up so early, I was-"

"-Shut _up_ \- I saw Peeves coming out of the lower dungeons and talking to the Baron. He was asking him all kinds of questions, and Peeves kept talking about 'snakey Sally'. Poltergeists don't have names, the only reason Peeves does is because he causes such a mess and has done since the beginning of time. I read about it, before you interrupt again. And the only thing with a name that could be down there is a ghost- the ghost of an 'important' person."

Draco's eyes widen. "The only 'Sally' who was ever important to the school..."

"...Was Salazar Slytherin, yes."

"That's impossible! Surely someone would have said!" Draco says, looking at the maps in his hands with fresh horror.

"Like who? I bet Aunt 'Cissa and Uncle Lucius would have kittens if he was in the same school as us and they knew. He gave us a lot in terms of the House, _dragon_ ," she drawls, thrilling in the exasperated look he gives her, "but he was a dangerous man. You've heard the stories."

Draco nods and they start walking again. "Let's not pretend my parents don't support the Dark Lord. I doubt they would be bothered by the presence of a founder's ghost."

"I don't think Aunt 'Cissa would like it," Dru says, leading them round a corner towards where she is sure the passage to Hogsmeade is hidden. "I don't think the Dark Lord has a patch on Slytherin."

"You don't mean that. They're just stories, Dru."

"The poltergeists were just stories, too. Slytherin sent one of them to find me, Draco. The Dark Lord doesn't scare me anywhere near as much as the idea of that mad old man sitting down there surrounded by those... things."

"Dru, you have to be joking."

"I didn't ask you to come with me to battle over who's the stronger wizard, for Merlin's sake! I want you to help me," she says. She stops dead in front of the grotesque witch's statue and mentally sighs with relief. She has remembered the way.

"Help with _what_?" Draco asks, exasperated, turning to face her from where he has taken a few steps in front of her by mistake.

"I'm going down there to find him, dragon, and I need you to come with me."

"Sod off," he says.

"We have to find him, Draco-"

"-So one minute you're actually saying Slytherin was worse than the Dark Lord and the next minute you want to go nip for a quick chat? I'm now deadly certain: you're absolutely mental."

"I'm _not_ mental," Dru snarls at him."I have to know."

"What could Slytherin _possibly_ know about you that you're so desperate to know?!" Both their voices are raised now, and they are attracting strange looks from the few people passing them on the corridor.

"I have to know if he'll tell me about my family!"

Draco looks like he's about to yell back, but then he frowns and goes very quiet. Dru knows this expression on her brother's face, and she doesn't like it. Her Uncle Lucius does it when he's dangerously angry, and while Dru knows Draco is probably not angry at her she can't always shake the feeling of dread that arises in her stomach when he resembles his father so much.

"Pixie," he says seriously. This is the most genuine she's seen him be with her all year- no acting for strangers, no reputations in the mix. He's even using his old nickname for her. He looks over at her. "If Slytherin is down there, it doesn't mean he knows anything."

"Nobody will tell me. This is the only thing I've got."

Draco looks down at his feet. "There's no point dying just to find out who your parents are."

"I have to know if I'm a pureblood."

"So this is about _heritage_?"

"I found out more about my- I suppose they are my family... than I ever expected to, but the line dies out according to every book we've read. I have to know."

"I know blood purity means a lot to us," Draco sneers, but Dru sees his fear through the acting. "But did I actually just hear you say you want to risk our lives for petty debates about being _pure_? Is my parents' affirmation not enough?"

"Do you know me at all?" she snaps. "It's not about bragging rights. It's about me. Uncle Lucius says I am pureblood, but I'm not evil or insane like the Gaunts are all supposed to be, like my mother is-"

"Aunt Bella isn't insane just because, Dru. Mother always says Azkaban made everything worse-"

"-but she _is_ insane, Draco, and everyone knows it. I'm nothing like the people I'm supposed to be related to and I need to know- I need to know if I was born evil."

Draco's face softens again and he looks at her. "You're not evil, Dru."

"My mother is insane, and my last name says that by all accounts I should kill a quarter of the people I know."

"No one can be _born_ evil, Dru."

"I can speak parseltongue. And all those books said there was never a witch or wizard who didn't go bad that spoke-"

"-Coincidence."

"You can't be sure of that. And who knows, Slytherin might know what happened to the Gaunts to disappear. He might know who my father is, Draco."

Draco closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in such a mature expression of frustration and confusion that Dru can't help but smile. He sighs. "And we're not counting Rodolphus Lestrange _because_?"

"He's as likely to be my father as Uncle Lucius. And he's _far_ too proper to cheat on Aunt 'Cissa."

Draco pulls a disgusted face. "Change the subject please."

"I don't think so. Will you help me, dragon? Please."

Dru knows it is theoretically beneath her to be begging him like this; but right now her reputation can be damned. She needs her brother. He sighs again heavily and runs a hand through his slicked back hair. She knows she's asking a lot of him. She knows he understands the wordless conversation between them. She needs him to get on board with this.

"Have I ever told you that you're the worst sister anyone could ever ask for?" he mumbles in her general direction.

"Is that a yes?" she asks hopefully.

"As long as we can protect ourselves."

"I have that covered," Dru says confidently. "But we need to go to Hogsmeade now-"

"-How are we meant to get to Hogsmeade, Dru, we're not third years-"

Dru rolls her eyes at him and gestures to the ugly statue, which only stands a few inches taller than Dru herself. An engraving at the base of it informs the pair that the witch it depicts is 'Gunhilda of Gorsemoor'. Draco wisely stays silent, though his one raised eyebrow screams 'you really are insane'. The corridor is empty- people have got word about the angry first-year with the curly hair who hexes people, so her near fight with Draco has made people clear out. Her hexes are not dangerous, merely annoying, but nobody really _wants_ to travel to the hospital wing because Dru has doused them in boiling water by mistake. She double checks that there is nobody around, then turns to the statue.

“ _Dissendium_ ,” she tells it, and the hump on its back opens up to reveal a crawlspace.

Dru gives her brother a quick boost into it and he tumbles down the short slide head first. Dru follows suit once she hears him swearing at the other side. The light from the passage opening stays for another few seconds, then the tunnel's entrance swings shut and pitch darkness envelopes them.

"This goes to Hogsmeade?" he says, panic in his voice.

"To Honeydukes, actually. Do you honestly think I kept paying third years to go out and buy you things on my behalf whenever we argued? After Christmas I was going myself. Had to steal some things, though. The Honeydukes staff need bribing to keep quiet, especially if you're sneaking after hours."

“How did you work out what to say to the statue?”

“I found it hidden in some writing on the stalls in the fifth floor girls' bathroom while I was exploring saying that there were secrets behind some things in the castle. I kept trying it on everything over Christmas until I found a few passageways. Some of the portraits were very offended.”

Draco laughs, the noise rippling strangely around them in the small passageway. “Wait. How do we get back out of this?”

“The stones in the wall behind the statue move so we can climb up back through that tunnel.” She fishes for her wand blindly in the near-darkness of the hidden passage. " _Lumos_."

"You can cast _Lumos_?" Draco says, distracted from the problem of leaving the passage.

"Severus showed me," she says dismissively. "It's easy. Look, you do it."

She demonstrates to him the basic wand movements and he copies her. It takes him five tries, but eventually his wand tip lights up brightly and he beams. "Let's go."


	15. An Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not fic, a note from the authors.

Hello there. 

 

Wow, has it been a long time. Over six months, in fact, and we are both incredibly sorry. We have both started our final year at university, which involves a lot of work, and neither of us have had a chance to think for ourselves. We cannot help life getting in the way right now, but our dissertations and graduation has to come first. Important stuff, impacts the rest of our lives, yadda yadda. We hope you understand. 

Liss finishes university in May, but Laura finishes in June. Updates will resume (and be a heck of a lot faster, hopefully!) then. For now, both of us have a 10,000 word essay to write and other studies to do as well. We're incredibly grateful for the support we've received, and we hope you'll still be excited to read about Dru's life once we're free to write her story again. Oh, and just by the way- we published some chapters with mistakes and bad editing, often badly written as well, just before we went on hiatus. Liss will be taking some of those chapters down and re-publishing them in the next few months, so there will be something to read while you wait for a brand new chapter even if you've read everything we've written so far.

Thank you for being so patient!

-Liss and Laura


End file.
